Down to Earth
by verla.kasalt
Summary: Sonic is on a class trip to an old Echidna ruin when a Star Post portal opens out of nowhere. Naturally, he doesn't waste a chance at adventure and jumps inside; after all, Star Posts are said to be able to take you anywhere you want. It takes him *somewhere*, alright: the alien planet Earth! Too bad English isn't the universe's first language...
1. Chapter 1: Never Mind the Pants

_Now that a couple of chapters are up (and a few reviews have made me understand that not everything is as clear as I thought), I've decided to add a small note on the scope of this thing: _

_This is a 'canon-like' alternate universe fic, and it starts a little before the events of the games. It is, however, not an 'origin story' (as I don't consider Sonic to be the kind of character that needs one), and it won't turn into a straight re-telling of the games either (Sonic already knows Tails, for example). _

_Sonic will be the only canon character for quite a while, but at some point most of the rest of the cast will appear in a way that fits this universe and (hopefully) still keeps them totally IC :). _

_A good chunk of this fic is already written, too (special thanks to Taranea for beta-reading so much of it), and I'm trying to make the best of the time I take to publish this for writing further chapters. _

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**Chapter 1: Never Mind the Pants**

Sonic was floating, surrounded by a world of yellow nothingness, and he was grinning like an idiot.

Just a moment ago he'd been listening to his teach ramble about the architecture of the old Echidna ruin they were in. Then the Star Post behind her had started humming—the cage at the bottom of the colored pole spinning all by itself. A twinkling portal split the air right above the pole's tip, and Sonic hadn't wasted a second leaping in. Now he levitated above the shimmering entrance, looking into the bewildered faces of his classmates gathered below.

"See ya next week, guys!" he called.

The portal closed, snatching his words away, and the muffled sounds from the outside world were replaced by the noise of blood rushing through his veins and the faint but steady thumping of his heart.

"Whoa!" The word sounded dull in his head, as if someone had plugged his ears. His arms and legs drifted weightlessly when he relaxed his muscles.

Sonic spun, his limbs following with unnatural ease. Everything around him was a void of yellow. Even the space where the portal had been—if he was still looking into the right direction anyway. For a moment he wasn't sure whether he was actually seeing into the distance (the stuff around him could as well've been some kind of super-dense fog), but his arms and legs were still there, short fur swaying with every motion and his pair of cargo shorts billowing around the knees. It was almost like being underwater, just, kind of, less alarming.

Wasn't something, _anything_ supposed to happen in this place? There were plenty of stories, at least, but only minutes ago he'd been told that the Star Posts hadn't done stuff in centuries. So there apparently hadn't been anyone around with hands-on experience in a while…

Yellow faded into blue, and in the distance, strange structures began to flicker into existence, eventually revolving around him as if he was the center of their universe. The structures twisted and shifted, taking the shape of unfamiliar places—spheres, fragments of land, and impossible roads. They were almost like islands, floating in a—

The portal tore open right in front of him. Outside noises surged inside, grabbing him like an invisible hand, and pulling him headfirst back into reality. Sonic barely caught his fall in a roll, tumbling over his face and elbows like a moron. He slid to a crouch on dusty rock, facing the the still active pole.

The Star Post, almost twice his height, was painted as brightly in reds, yellows and blues as the one he'd come from. At the bottom, a pivoting cage whirred and crackled with energy, but the portal that revolved around the sphere at the post's top had almost closed. Moments later the ancient thing wound down and Sonic's ears became filled with the faint sound of the sea and the rustling of leaves. Only a slight, metallic taste lingered in the air.

He was on a plateau of some sort. In a half-circle around the Star Post, steep, grayish-brown rocks protruded towards an overcast sky like a protective hand, then extended left and right into a mountain-like formation. Opposite, a rocky descent lead into a forest, and across from that Sonic could easily spot the vastness of the sea. Wherever he was, it definitely weren't the old ruins he'd come from.

"Heh…" Sonic stood, rubbing his nose. "Guess the old stuff works after all!"

Then his vision blacked out.

He wasn't unconscious (he knew what _that_ felt like. Falling out of a loop-de-loop kinda did that to you…), it was more like he'd blinked and forgotten to open his eyes afterwards.

Before Sonic could start to panic, an image of the inside of a cave began to fill his view. From a crack in the cave's high-up ceiling a ray of light seeped in, illuminating countless glimmering spots in the cave's walls, then honing in on yet another Star Post like a spotlight. Sonic looked at it from slightly above, as if a part of him was floating, but he could still feel solid ground beneath his feet.

A set of foreign symbols appeared in the corner of his eyes, then a wall of gray noise washed into his vision, making the cave disappear.

The colorless particles engulfed him, swirling and spinning and revealing more and more of the place he now seemed to stand in. After a moment, he finally saw a gray, fizzy 3D image of what could've only been the same cave. He watched from where he'd seen the Star Post stand just a moment ago, almost as if he was seeing things from inside the thing itself.

The grainy gray shape of a person stepped into view right beside him, and Sonic suppressed a flinch. The person was tall and round, towering over him on unnaturally long legs. It seemed to ignore him, stepping further into the cave, and surveying its surroundings from a tiny head that sprouted two bushels of fur where the cheeks should've been. It was like watching a gigantic, misshapen walrus.

Where the heck had he ended up now? The gray noise made everything look too weird to be real, but it didn't exactly look like a movie either. Maybe he could talk to the guy or something.

As if in response, the person spun, the pointy ends of what looked like a coat flapping behind it. But then it only strode back in the direction it had come from, apparently not even realizing Sonic was there. The moment the person passed him again, a flash of light brought Sonic back into the outdoors.

He blinked, suddenly feeling nauseous. His body doubled over on its own, recalling his breakfast with unnecessary detail.

"What the heck…?" he wheezed.

Sonic spit out one last bitter piece, then straightened, casting a suspicious glance at the now perfectly quiet pole. It stood there as if nothing had happened. If he hadn't just changed places—and there was no doubt about that—he probably wouldn't believe that those things could do anything at all.

But he was here now, and he wasn't going to waste time worrying about how something worked if it'd clearly just done so. He'd rather start exploring.

Sonic got off the rocky edge of the plateau and descended lazily into the forest, hopping from boulder to boulder and across dry scrubs, until a patch of overgrown earth lead into a forest of low, winding trees. For a moment, he thought he might've ended up near Splash Canyon, but the whole place seemed much drier overall. The trees had knotted barks and dull green leaves, with the occasional patch of dry ground and wiry vines in-between. Maybe he'd ended up further south? Not that it particularly mattered—being far out was usually the least of his problems. Besides, _getting_ far out had been exactly the plan he'd made a split-second before jumping into that portal.

Sonic took on a leisurely jog through the woods, nimbly dodging stones and branches protruding from the ground. He found a trail of water and followed it for a bit, until the earthy ground became more and more mixed with sand and he emerged on a wide beach stretching far along the coast. If he'd had a thing for the sea, this would've been the perfect spot for a relaxed swim in complete solitude. There was probably some kind of resort around, though he hadn't heard anything other than the general buzz of nature so far.

He took off along the beach, leaping over rocks and washed up wood. The shore made a wide bend then ended at a steep and rugged cliff that looked like it had grown out of the rock range he'd come from, right into the water.

Sonic squinted up the cliff with growing unease. It had only taken him a brief jog through the woods and then even less time to reach one edge of the beach. Even from the Star Post's location all he'd seen was forest, rocks, and water. If there wasn't anything else hidden behind that rock range, then…

Sonic licked his lips, absently checking the fit of his shoes. He went for the nearest chink and pulled himself up the rock-face, nails digging into dry earth.

By the time he'd reached the top, he felt more nauseous than when he'd come out of the Star Post.

He was on an _island_.

And he couldn't even spot a hint of civilization.

A salty gust of wind blew across the dull green trees below, eventually catching in his quills and sending a shiver down his spine. The island could've been large enough for a holiday resort and maybe a small settlement, but there was nothing but forest and greenery stretching from the narrow rock range to the beach he'd come from.

_A frickin' island!_

Sonic sat down heavily.

There was another island right behind the one he was on, with a shallow stretch of sea between them. It looked pretty much identical—even smaller, if anything. Other than that there was nothing in sight. No mainland, no ship, no larger island.

Sonic sat numbly for a moment, then abruptly reached for his pockets. He'd almost forgotten he actually wore pants today. He usually only picked them because they sucked less than a backpack when running and he could still bring a lot more stuff than just himself and a couple of rings. There was the slim chance he'd actually grabbed his phone today.

Sonic fished a lonely pen and a roll of mint candy from his pockets, blinking at both, then let his hands drop into his lap with a groan. "Great. I'm a model student."

_Chaos_, this wasn't how his trip was supposed to go! He'd wanted to get dropped off at a random location, alright, but he'd also thought it was only going to take him a day or two to find his way back. From an island, though, especially this far out, he had no frickin' idea how to go about it. That he was pretty much the opposite of a swimmer and could barely fold a paper boat didn't help matters either.

Sonic got back up on heavy feet and popped one of the mints into his mouth. There had to be at least _something_ down there that could tell him where he'd ended up exactly—anything to figure out where a boat or flight route might go. Then he could find a way to get their attention.

#

The sun had already set when he finally lay down on the sandy beach, staring into a darkening sky.

The island had turned out to be empty, just as he'd thought. He'd uselessly called out a couple of times, but only startled a few feral birds out of their homes. No matter how often he'd climbed to higher ground, there hadn't been any signs of ships or planes passing by. There was no point in blindly trying to draw attention to himself, so he'd spent the rest of the day picking up anything that looked edible—with the vague hope that at least the plants would give him an idea where he'd ended up at.

It was weird, though. Aside from some round nuts, nothing looked remotely familiar. He'd found a bunch of fist-sized, firm orange fruits, a leathery root growing on trees, bushes full of somewhat dangerous looking pink things, and two kinds of small green oval fruit—one sweet and the other salty and bitter. He normally didn't care _that_ much about what he ate, but not even recognizing any of the plants around him kind of rubbed him the wrong way. Just how far out was he, really?

The few animals he'd seen hadn't exactly clued him in either, and the one sign of civilization he'd eventually found—a red can washed up by the sea—had had a weird curly font on it that he'd never seen before. Not that it meant too much, though.

Behind the tree crowns above his head a shining white sphere crept quietly along the night sky. Sonic watched it for a while, then pushed himself to his feet and walked up to the shoreline to get a better look. There were barely any stars visible yet, but this single one was gigantic and easily outshone them all.

…Or was that supposed to be one of the moons? Sonic frowned.

It wasn't exactly unusual to see only one of the two moons during the year. But those nights were dim; either cast in a mystical green or a ghostly purple. This moon didn't just look larger than usual, it also shone like a frickin' lightbulb casting the beach into a cool, blueish light. Sonic was pretty sure he wouldn't have missed a freak phenomenon like this coming up—not even if it would've been something only visible on the other side of Mobius. And _especially_ not with Miles in the house. But—

—On the other side of Mobius?

Sonic felt a chill.

There was one place he knew of that was supposed to have a glaring white moon like this. Unfortunately, it wasn't Mobius. It was _Lum_; the second blue planet of the solar system. But there was no way he could've have ended up _there_! Right…?

Sonic swallowed, feeling strangely numb all of a sudden. No wonder the place had felt eerie all day. He'd thought it was because he hadn't found even a lick of civilization, but now the strange plants and animals made a lot more sense than he would've liked.

The only thing that had become even more confusing now was the strange red can he'd found. For all he knew _Lum_ was inhabited by feral species at best. So either, he wasn't where he thought he was (and had instead ended up on the single most remote place on Mobius), or there were actual _people_ living here and he'd never learned about it. Both options weren't exactly reassuring. He'd probably have to wait forever until someone even so much as passed the place—and then he couldn't even be sure what _kind_ of someone it would be…

There was only one thing he could do. He'd have to get the Star Post to take him back home somehow. And he was going to figure out how _that_ was supposed to work first thing in the morning.

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Thanks for reading :)

(Edit 2020-04-13, added A/N above)


	2. Chapter 2: Miles Apart (I)

_Thanks for the response so far. I never expected to get a review on the first chapter - especially not such a nice one :D. I hope I can keep things up :). _

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**Chapter 2: Miles Apart (I)**

Twelve.

Sonic dug his feet into the weather-worn rock. Twelve more steps and he'd reach the ledge at just the right speed to sprint up a slanted stone wall. His shoes had already torn through the moss there several times before, leaving a dirt path to the top.

The wind rushed into his side as he rocketed off its edge and through a series of v-shaped crags, squinting at the flicker of sunrays. Beneath him was the only reason he'd taken the slower route through the small mountain range that belonged to the island: a slope.

The narrow ramp was easy to miss, but this time he was coming down perfectly.

Gravity could be such a slowpoke.

He curled up and landed on the narrow path, muscles tensed to catch the impact with his quills. Three rollovers and he'd reach the edge feet forward, ready to propel himself off at the peak of momentum.

There!

He soared across the treetops, the tips of his shoes barely grazing the topmost leaves when he passed a small hole in the tree's crown. It was a nice reminder of his last attempt when he'd come in too low and entangled himself, crashing through without even managing to catch a twig to break his fall. No idea why this lonesome island didn't even have one ring he could use to cushion his stunts. It was only half as fun this way.

Sonic braced himself for the impact into an old, gnarly tree that towered above the rest. His hands slammed into one of its branches, sending twigs and leaves into a rattle. Even without picking up a ring, his body could endure quite the beating. It was mostly the stuff he ran _into_ that made things difficult. Most of the time he was pretty good at flash-judging the stability of an obstacle, but he still had no idea how his insurance hadn't already put him as a high risk client…

Sonic flung himself off the branch and skidded to a halt on sandy earth only to pick up the pace again and head straight back into the mountains where the Star Post was. So far, the old thing hadn't done what he wanted it to, but whenever he came near—and he'd gone there countless times during the past couple of days—at least _something_ did happen.

As soon as he'd reached the plateau the feeling was there again—like cold fingers reaching deep into his head. There was nothing he could do to keep his vision from blacking out when it happened; all he could do was watch the image of an island appear. An instant later he floated above it, just far enough to see it in full, and he had no doubt he was looking at exactly the island he'd ended up on. After a while he began to feel in control, as if he could simply make his virtual self fly across the ocean and look for other places, but whenever he tried, strange symbols apeeared at the corner of his vision and the image distorted like a broken screen. Then it ended.

Sonic blinked. If any of this was supposed to tell him something, it was doing a pretty shitty job. The only thing that felt like progress was that he didn't feel nauseous anymore when it happened.

He took a few steps towards the Star Post and closed his hand firmly around one of the cool metal bars that made up the bottom cage. He braced himself and spun it with all he had, then almost recoiled from the sheer force with which the cage had decidedly _not_ moved. Sonic idly shook his throbbing wrist.

All he really had on Star Posts was comic book knowledge—some nonsense about chosen ones, or stories about the far past when everyone could just use those things like stepping throgh a doorway. They never mentioned anything about weird visions, or nausea.

Then again, he might've just been reading the wrong comic books.

At least there was one thing they seemed to agree on: spinning the cage was supposed to gear the Post up and open the portal. In there you'd think of the place you wanted to go (something he hadn't done _exactly_…) and it'd take you there. That much had happened, as far as he could tell. Only at that point the cage had started spinning on its own for whatever reason.

Sonic took a breath and let the air out again in a rush. He just had to get lucky again. Piece of cake.

#

He returned to the beach and flopped down in the shade of a tree, staring at the rolling waves.

It had been one week. One frickin' week of doing virtually nothing. The island was the epitome of boredom. There wasn't even anything that could be considered dangerous—aside from the stuff he was doing to himself, anyway.

For lack of a better idea he'd kindled a fire on one of the flat top cliffs, tending to it a couple of times during the day. It was probably only visible at night, but he hadn't really come up with another way of drawing attention, yet. All the wood and stones he found lying around the island were too bleak to stand out against the sand, so drawing or writing stuff was out of the option. Plus, he'd spent four days recovering from stomach cramps and other… 'pleasantries', after stuffing himself with pretty much anything the island had to offer, so his mind hadn't exactly been on the resourceful end. Apparently even his stomach of steel wasn't strong enough to deal with alien foodstuffs.

Hey, he was an expert eater, not an expert at _food_.

A gleaming dot in the sky pulled him out of his thoughts and he sat up straight, squinting his eyes. In the distance, a tiny something moved on a steady path from east to west. He'd seen it before. Normally, he would've easily recognized it as a plane. But for all he knew he wasn't on Mobius anymore and he had no idea whether planes even existed here. Now that he saw it for the second time, he wasn't so doubtful anymore.

His ears perked up when they picked up a low drone. It was faint, but definitely not part of the islands' usual ambient noise. Maybe the plane was closer than it appeared? Sonic was on his feet in an instant. He needed to rekindle the fire. Or throw something to draw attention or whatever. Man, couldn't he at least have found a washed up rag or anything to wave around?

Sonic sped along his trail back into the woods then up the cliff where he kept the fire going. He grabbed one of the smoldering logs, stirring up the embers and blowing in some air to relight the fire, tendrils of smoke rising into the air. He could probably get the stuff to smoke some more. Maybe with a bunch of leaves or pieces of damp wood…? Sonic spun, ready to zip back into the woods, then almost tripped over his own feet. The noise that had gradually gotten even louder, hadn't come from the speck in the sky. It came from a small, white and orange waterplane that had almost reached the island, still dropping down steadily. Sonic felt a chill.

If Miles had been here he probably would've chewed his ears off by now at how much the plane looked like the ones from home. He would've known every similarity and every difference even from a distance, and Sonic knew this would've been one of the moments when he'd really been able to appreciate his friend's ramblings. But Miles wasn't here, and Sonic was glad all the same that he hadn't dragged anyone else with him when he'd jumped into the portal.

He shook himself out of his daze and leaped off the ledge, grinding down the rock face and dashing through the woods again. When he reached the beach, the plane had almost passed the island and was flying close to the waters, engines roaring. Sonic chased after it along the shore, only to watch the thing fly past when he reached the island's edge.

The plane was heading for the _other_ isle, already disappearing behind whatever greenery was growing there. A few moments later the noise of its engine subsided and his ears filled with the steady sound of the sea.

It was significantly less comforting.

Sonic let himself slump into the sand with a groan. This was it? A plane turned up and then it had the nerve to land on the _only other island_ around? Just perfect.

Crossing the water was the one single thing he'd wanted to avoid. Water was fine and all—like, for showers, or for drinking—but screw him if anyone decided to dunk him in it. He could deal with if it were only a moment of shock, but most of the time his entire body froze up and his mind went blank with it.

Sonic grumbled.

He got to his feet again and squinted at the opposing shore. The islands weren't that far apart around here—200 paces at best—and the water looked mostly shallow with a bunch of sandbars shining beneath the surface. He could try and wade through—he wasn't going to funk out if he took it slow. But if he lost his footing on the way it wasn't going to do him much good since he couldn't frickin' _swim_.

Sonic began pacing, feeling his fists clench. He had no idea how much time he had to get across before the plane left again, but it probably wasn't enough to try and build a raft from logs he had to… chew off or something because he didn't have any frickin' tools around either. Wading through was probably his only sane option. Better get it over with.

Sonic crouched and began unstrapping his shoes, scanning the water for a path. It almost shone from within in a clear, crystal blue; its smooth, quiet surface probably making it perfect for… whatever sorts of water sports he was constantly missing out on.

…Wait.

That surface _was_ smooth.

There were small swirls here and there, but nothing really major.

Could he just _run_ across if he went fast enough?

He'd always wanted to try. He'd just never had a decent opportunity or simply didn't want to deal with ending up in water. Now it seemed to be the only way of potentially not ending up drenched and on the verge of a panic attack.

…Man, at some point he really had to get over this nonsense. Surfing looked like way too much fun to miss out on. Or water skiing. Or cliff jumping. Why couldn't rings keep you from drowning, huh? Sonic scrunched up his nose.

He strapped his shoes back on and got up, hopping on his toes. Every now and then small waves met in tiny swirls, but he could probably skip those. As long as he didn't try to take sharp turns or side steps, he was going to be fine.

…Probably.

Sonic took a deep breath then backed up the little space he had on this side of the beach and got into a sloppy sprinter stance.

"Here goes nothing."

He hammered his feet into the sand, then hard onto the water's surface, hoping for the tension to keep him afloat. In an instant, he was about one third on his way towards the other shore, which was a pretty good sign that things were working. Also, he was now one third _away_ from the shore he'd come from, which meant that things had better not stop working anytime soon.

Sonic smacked his soles into the water like a maniac, arms swinging hard to keep his momentum going. The drops of water he kicked off of his shoes began creeping into the fabric, weighing him down, and the bounce he got out of his arms became even more important. Only halfway to go. Sonic gritted his teeth.

Ahead, the water didn't play along, small waves closing in on his path like two land masses during an earthquake. He forced his already heavy legs to take steeper steps, trying to ascend with the rising surface.

If he ever got out of this, it was time for doing chin-ups. Daily.

The two waves collided, briefly breaking the water's tension, and Sonic's foot got caught in a swirl and was yanked behind. He drove his other leg in front of him but only managed to run his knee into the water.

"No-no-NO-_NO_—"

The moment his face hit the surface his body went rigid, drifting off sideways and bumping into a pile of sa—

#

Sonic awoke with a gasp, scrambling onto all fours. Every ounce of water he'd taken in instantly decided to leave his body the same way it had apparently entered—only not as gracefully…

By the time he was done coughing up saltwater and back on his back, his lungs and throat were sore and his limbs felt like jelly. If that stupid plane now decided to make a stop at the other island, it could go where the frickin' rings were.

He sat up abruptly, glancing around. How long had it been? It still looked like afternoon and the air was filled with all sorts of nature noises. The sea between the two islands rose and fell as if nothing had happened.

Sonic dragged himself to his feet and took a few probing steps. His shoes and clothes were covered in sand and only dried halfway, and he pulled a few leathery strands of algae out from between his quills. He couldn't have been out for too long, but it might've been enough for a plane to start and to get out of his sight again.

He gave his still numb muscles a stretch and began a jog along the shoreline. This island didn't seen much different from the one he'd come from—forest and beach as far as he could see—but if the plane was still here, it had to be around somewhere, and that thought alone already made the place a thousand times better than the one he'd vegetated on for the past week.

He was halfway around the island when it came into view. The waterplane had docked at the inside of an L-shaped wooden jetty reaching a fair way out into the water. A single crate sat on the planks in front of the plane, but there was nothing and no one else otherwise.

Some way up the beach to the left, a stony path lead to a plant-lined patio that belonged to a single-story house with a warm orange tiled roof. Its whitewashed walls made the place look even more pristine than it already was.

"No way…" There was a whole frickin' _house_? And he was on the other side longing for a toothbrush…

Sonic shook his head and stepped closer. Someone had left the house's doors and windows wide open, and the island's constant breeze tugged at their curtains. He skipped up the patio, ready to take a step inside, but then stopped in front of the open doorway where a prattling bead curtain obscured his view.

The place was huge.

It didn't take up too much space in width—nothing unusual anyway—, but something told him that even East Islands' reptiles wouldn't feel comfortable with that kind of headroom. The door looked twice his height.

Sonic carefully pushed the curtain aside, peeking into a wide room then ultimately stepping inside. It had a leather lounge to the left and some sort of kitchen area to the far right with a dining table in front. Ahead, a wide corridor lead past two doors left and right, then opened up into another large room with a fluffy white rag. Along the way someone had left a bunch of open boxes and bags that looked like they'd been placed there just recently. Everything was _gigantic_.

...For supposedly being on an alien planet, though, stuff looked pretty normal. It was more like entering a bad movie set.

Was that a fridge back there?

Someone started whistling. Sonic spun just in time to see a shape pass behind the curtain of one of the windows, probably heading for the front entrance. He cringed.

That thing had been _tall_. Sonic hadn't seen a ledge running along the outside of the house, so apparently there was a reason for this place having a door taller than a garage gate.

The figure passed another window on its way, looking like it had arms the size of pillars. It was probably about to enter any moment now.

"Oh, come on," Sonic muttered. He'd just found a house. He hadn't planned on ruining it by being discovered by some kind of supersized alien croc before getting to check things out. Maybe the place even had a _shower_.

The steps reached the door and Sonic zipped further inside, past the hallway and into the other wide room that it connected to. Specs of dust swirled up from the thick rug and gleamed in the rays of light coming through a glass terrace door at the very back. To Sonic's left stood a massive bed beneath small, round window, and to his right seemed to be some sort of study. Everything looked so frickin' pristine, it made him feel ten times greasier than he probably was. The idea of even setting a foot onto that rug seemed blasphemous.

The bead curtain rattled and Sonic reflexively slipped out of sight, now poised between the bedside and what appeared to be a giant wardrobe with a shiny white front. He heard someone enter the house on squeaky shoes, pause for a moment, then rummage in one of the bags before whistling their way further towards the bedroom. Sonic itched to get a look at whatever was coming, but if he showed himself now, they'd probably both just freak out or something. He'd rather know how those guys looked before saying hello. Now he just had to get to a decent vantage point…

Sonic glanced around. There was the patio door, alright, but he had no idea how it opened and breaking it probably wasn't going to earn him any alien approval points. The bed was monstrous but definitely didn't have enough space underneath, and the wardrobe—

Sonic ground his teeth.

Well, it'd do for now.

He pulled one of the doors open and climbed into an empty compartment. When he closed the door, he was left with a narrow gap to peek through. A moment later, someone stepped into view and paused in the middle of the room as if they'd picked up a scent.

Sonic's skin grew cold.

He'd expected some kind of reptile—or whatever other species that tended to be a lot taller than him—but _that_ thing…

It was tall—definitely tall enough to fit the room they were in. The head was almost comically small, and the eyes were so tiny Sonic couldn't even make out their color. Where it didn't wear clothes (and that multicolored shirt was plain ridiculous), its tan skin was covered with a flimsy coat of hair, with only the head apparently growing hair (fur?) in abundance, the entire mass of it being tied together at the back of its neck. But—

_That_ thing didn't look sci-fi movie weird. It didn't even look fantasy monster weird. It looked _normal_. And looking normal was clearly infinitely worse than any alien with eight limbs covered in glowy parts could've been at this point.

_It looked real_.

Apparently, the bizarre reality of Sonic being stuck alone on an alien planet had only waited for this exact moment to hit him square in the gut.

Sonic swallowed past a suddenly dry throat.

Up until now he'd still kinda managed to convince himself that he'd maybe just ended up at a really remote location on Mobius, but seeing this guy…

It _was_ a guy, wasn't it?

It was probably the least important question right now, but anything that got his head out of this frickin' situation was a good thing.

…Only now he also thought that alien guy's general physique looked kinda familiar. How'd that make sense?

_Right_. The Star Post. If Sonic took away the hair and put some fat on alien guy's ribs, he could almost pass for the shape Sonic had seen in that one, colorless Star Post vision.

He shifted to get a better look through the gap.

Alien guy had gone to open the large glass doors, letting a breeze in, then he took what looked like a bunch of magazines from the bag he'd brought. He rounded the bed and placed them on a nightstand like some sort of hotel staff, then disappeared from Sonic's view. Sonic strained his ears.

A moment later, alien guy passed right in front of Sonic's door crack and Sonic flinched so hard he almost bumped his elbow into the wood.

The guy paused. His tall shape shifted behind the crack. Something pressed and rubbed against the door from the outside, making it creak, then alien guy seemed to leave again. A moment later he apparently opened one of the other compartments and began putting stuff inside, quietly whistling again.

Sonic got into a more comfortable position, relaxing somewhat. This wasn't so bad, actually.

…Not the wardrobe part. But the fact that there was a chance those guys had a sort-of connection to the thing that brought him here. Couldn't hurt to ask if they knew how he could make that Star Post take him home again.

Sonic pushed the door open and stepped out in the most dignified manner one could step out of a wardrobe, then threw the guy a two fingered salute. "Hey! Sorry for dropping in like this. Any chance you know how that Star Post works over on the other isle?"

Alien guy stared, frozen in place. The stack of folded linen he had in his arm dropped to the ground in perfect slow motion, and his eyes went wide enough to become about almost normal-sized. They were blue, actually.

Sonic grimaced, thumbing at the wardrobe. "Yeaah, I know. Didn't plan on hiding in there…"

»Shit…« The guy's eyes darted across the room as if looking for something to grab. When he came out empty he put the palms of his hands forward, apparently trying to look harmless. »Don't move, okay? Don't move…« He spoke slowly, soothingly.

Unfortunately, everything he spoke was also complete gibberish.

If he hadn't been towering over Sonic like a frickin' mammoth, his act of appearing harmless could've almost been successful, though. But Sonic wouldn't be surprised if the other was actually just waiting for the right moment to lunge.

»Greg?« Alien guy shouted, making Sonic flinch. »Get your ass in here, right now!«

Some other male voice replied from outside, and Sonic reflexively looked into the direction the voice was coming from. Alien guy took his chance to jump for one of the dropped linen and threw it above Sonic's head like a dragnet.

Sonic slipped away from beneath the floating blanket almost as an afterthought. He rolled sideways across the bed's mattress and flipped to a stand on the other side of the bed, leaving a couple of streaks on the pristine sheet.

…So much for trying not to touch anything in here.

Alien guy had jumped after the sheet, now holding a vaguely Sonic-sized piece of fabric in his arms that slowly deflated.

"…Really?" Sonic said, raising an eye-ridge and gesturing at the fallen blanket.

The guy stared at Sonic, back to the fallen piece of fabric then back at Sonic. He began climbing to his feet, looking more confused than determined.

At the front, the bead curtain rattled again, the guy's friend apparently coming through. Sonic frowned. If the other guy was also going into catch-first-ask-later mode, Sonic really didn't want to deal with both of them at once—not until he had an idea of how strong those guys were, anyway, or, whether they had any powers to boot. Better let everyone cool off for a bit, then give communication another try.

Sonic dashed through the now open patio door and into the woods behind the house before the second guy came into view.

#

Sonic perched in the branches of a nearby tree, watching the guy in the colored shirt pace up and down the patio below. His friend (another male apparently) still stood in the shaded doorframe, fanning himself with a cap. This one's hair had decided to grow in his face instead of the top of his head, and Sonic couldn't help but also compare him to the strange Star Post image. Even if the beard was nowhere near as bushy as the one he'd seen, it was still enough to assure him he'd really seen the shape of one of those a week ago. It was enough to pile up a number of pretty odd implications in his head.

Were the Star Posts maybe not a Mobius-thing after all? What if _those_ guys were really the ones who'd always known how to use them. Or maybe there'd even already been contact and he never knew?

Sonic edged forward and strained his ears, trying to listen in on their exchange. He hadn't understood a thing when they'd talked before, but maybe he just had to pay a little more attention. He'd been in tons of different language Zones before and usually picked up a thing or two while he was at it (even if it was rarely more than learning how to find the next spot to eat, but hey…)

Their language sounded kinda brash and loud, but otherwise pretty orderly. It also didn't seem to have any weird noises like some of the eastern lizard dialects. He could probably mimic those guys pretty easily.

…Not that it would do him any good. He still didn't understand a thing they said.

Sonic crept back again and leaned against the tree's trunk while the two guys below kept discussing. Shirt gestured pretty much everywhere while the one with the cap just seemed confused, shrugging occasionally and not talking much. It almost looked as if shirt guy was trying to describe Sonic with his gestures, which seemed kind of weird all of a sudden. Those guys did look somewhat odd to him, too, alright, but Sonic had seen enough different species to shrug it off for the most part. Shirt's freak-out level was a bit over the top.

…Unless they for some reason weren't used to seeing other species or just didn't hang out with them. That would be annoying. Especially if he couldn't just go up and talk to them.

Sonic groaned and bumped his head against the trunk again. Both guy's heads snapped up at the noise, Shirt immediately pointing and Cap staring with his mouth dropping open. Sonic startled out of his branch and hopped to the ground through the branches of a bunch of other trees, taking off across the island.

At least he hadn't ended up in some kind of alien stone age…


	3. Chapter 3: Miles Apart (II)

**Chapter 3: Miles Apart (II)**

Sonic had returned to the now quiet back patio of the beach house, looking for a way to the top of its roof without jumping around too much.

The two alien guys had stopped giving chase pretty much as soon as they'd started, and Sonic had idled around the island for a bit. At first, he'd tried thinking of a decent way to approach them again, but then he figured he could instead just as well try to get into their plane first and figure out everything else later. Being on an island with a Star Post around was nice and all, but as long as he had no idea what to do with it, any other place was just as good—especially if it meant less boredom and more people who could potentially know about stuff in general. By now Sonic had a feeling that Shirt and Cap had even less of a clue than he had himself.

…Now he just hoped they weren't on vacation for the next three weeks or so.

Sonic got on top of a low wall that circled one half of the patio and pulled himself onto the roof from there. Its tiles radiated warmth and creaked softly beneath his shoes as he moved closer to the gable to peek across.

From the front of the house came a muffled conversation and the occasional chinking of glass. A white parasol stood below, beneath it two wooden beach chairs and a side table inbetween. Both chairs roughly faced the sea, and the two guys had gotten comfortable, each one with a bottled drink in hand.

Sonic frowned. They weren't supposed to get comfortable. Especially not with their eyes on the plane.

At least the plane was still there. And he could still spot that one crate on the jetty. So, either they hadn't bothered to settle in yet, or they weren't planning to. There was only one bed after all—one huge bed, alright, but it didn't look as if two people their size would want to share it. Of course there were still two doors he hadn't looked into, and behind one of them might as well've been another bedroom, but somehow it didn't feel right. He'd rather gotten the impression that the two were prepping the place for somebody else.

Unfortunately, he had no idea how the other side of the plane looked like. Did they leave the hatch open? Was it locked? Was there even a spot for him to hide until they took off?

Ah, well, he'd figure that out once he was there.

The guy with the cap started getting up and Sonic shrunk behind the gable, pricking his ears. They talked some more, then there was the brief clanking of wood and the occasional scraping noise as one of them apparently began to carry one of the chairs back behind the house. The other guy seemed to go inside.

If Sonic wanted to get into that plane, now sounded like the perfect moment.

He took another peek across the gable. The path looked clear. Almost too easy. He slid down to the front of the roof, saw and heard no one directly below, then jumped off and dashed straight across the beach and along the jetty, scrambling around its corner and skidding to a halt on the jetty's short end.

Two hatches—both wide open. Now what?

Sonic slipped inside through the first, firing up his senses. No yelling or other frantic noises from the house, so he was probably good for now.

The inside of the plane looked pretty bare: two seats in front of the console and a bit of empty space where Sonic had entered. Towards the back the inside walls had just enough room for two jump-seats on each side, then came a separating wall that looked removable with the right tools. There was no other hatch or storage compartment or whatever. If he wanted those guys to not discover him in this part of the plane, he'd better turn into a chameleon this instant…

Getting into the back of the plane was probably his best shot. Time to head for the other hatch.

Sonic turned to get out again, catching a glimpse of movement behind the windshield. He hesitated, peeking out. The guy in the shirt had taken off towards the plane on brisk steps, obviously stirred up by something. Perhaps they'd caught him dashing out here after all. No way the guy was gonna miss him in here.

Sonic's eyes latched to the console. Could he just…take off? He could fly the Tornado alright, so it couldn't be that hard. Sure, there were about three times as many gauges and indicators on this one (and he didn't even know which of those symbols were _numbers_…) but most of the time he didn't pay attention to that stuff anyway. As long as the stick worked the same?

…And then he'd run out of _chaos_ in the middle of nowhere because he didn't even know which direction to head off to since there wasn't a single speck of land in sight aside from those two frickin' islands. Being stuck on a desert island for a while longer was _slightly_ more preferable than crashing a plane into the middle of the ocean.

Shirt was halfway onto the jetty then suddenly turned to face his friend calling from the house's doorway. Cap seemed annoyed, dropping a large bag to the ground in front of the door, then Shirt seemed annoyed for being interrupted. They were annoyed back and forth for a while until Shirt waved off Cap and continued along the jetty. The other picked up the bag again, face crumpled with annoyance, and hobbled with the heavy-looking thing after him.

Sonic blinked.

He got out of the front of the plane, dropped onto the plane's float below, then got back in through the other hatch in the back, hearing Shirt's steps approach.

The back of the plane was some kind of cargo area about as wide as Sonic was tall and with an extra elevated surface towards the very rear of the plane. A single crate was strapped there with a bit of empty space behind it. Sonic could probably squeeze into that niche, but those guys would be complete idiots if this wasn't the first spot they'd go look for him. He'd have to deal with this some other way. Maybe the guy being actually prepared to find him here this time improved Sonic's chances with communication.

He stepped into the hatch's opening right as Shirt hopped onto one of the plane's floats, making the plane sway. They both locked eyes.

»I knew it!« the guy said. Then he lunged for one of Sonic's legs.

"Whoa!" Sonic danced away, retreating back into the cargo. "Dude, take it easy. I just wanna talk."

Shirt seemed unimpressed, apparently not understanding anything either. He began crawling inside after Sonic, eventually leaving him with his back against the wall, then he reached for Sonic's leg again. Sonic hopped across the guy's passing hand then evaded a second attempt much the same way. Shirt's face darkened.

"I can do this for a while, you know—," Sonic said, glad that the guy didn't try going for his torso instead. Talk about undignified, being carried out on one of the shoulders of that giant. Maybe the guy didn't want to get too close?

"—Doesn't mean I _want_ to, though." Sonic added, dodging another attempt then flattening one the guy's flailing hand under his shoe.

»Ow, _fuck_,« Shirt roared through clenched teeth.

Sonic felt a tug under his foot as the guy tried to pull his hand out, and shifted his weight. He didn't want to properly hurt the guy, but maybe he could annoy him enough to actually try and listen for a sec. There had to be a way for him to hitch a ride without clinging to one of the floats below.

Shirt began clutching at Sonic's shoe with his other hand and Sonic had to resist pulling his foot away. You didn't grope about other people's shoes! He'd have to get the other hand pinned, too, if that went on.

Shirt grabbed Sonic's lower leg and tugged, slightly rocking him off-balance but only managing to get more weight on his pinned hand. He cursed again. Probably.

»How can you be this heavy?« the guy said through a clenched jaw.

Sonic had expected the guy to just throw him off like a stack of empty boxes, but apparently he wasn't as strong as he looked. Couldn't hurt to keep that in mind…

Cap appeared in front of the hatchway, drawing their attention. »Dude, next time you start chasing critters, at least take a bag with y—« he broke off, blinking.

Shirt chose this moment of distraction to yank at Sonic's leg, finally getting him off-balance. Sonic dropped to his behind, back sliding down the cargo's wall with one leg still in Shirt's grip. He readied the other leg for a kick and Shirt raised his now free hand in defense.

»What the heck are you doing?« came Cap's voice. He'd removed his cap and ran a hand across his bald head.

»Trying to get the thing out of our plane?« Shirt replied with some strain.

»…It's wearing pants, have you tried talking?«

»Sorry, my gibberish isn't up to snuff.«

Sonic kept his foot aimed, glaring. Shirt narrowed his eyes.

»Get out,« Cap said, putting his cap back on, vaguely beckoning.

Shirt's face twisted, then he tossed Sonic's leg aside and retreated out of the hatch, rubbing his hand. »Good luck,« he said, stepping out of the way and towards the back of the float, gesturing into the cargo.

Sonic climbed to his feet, dusting himself off. He took a few steps towards the hatch, eying them both. "So," Sonic said. "Guess it got kinda awkward now, but I'm still okay talking about this." He was pretty sure those guys understood about as much as he did from them. But it was still nice talking to something other than a rock for a change.

Cap frowned, then exchanged a quick look with Shirt who just shrugged.

»Er—,« Cap began, facing Sonic and clearing his throat. »You… can come out now?« He beckoned. »Out,« he said slowly. He made some room on the float, both guys now standing at the sides of the hatch like a pair of guards.

The gestures seemed clear enough. Maybe this guy was gonna go about this a little differently. Sonic would rather take some time to try and figure this out by communication than end up with two knocked out aliens and a plane he couldn't fly.

…Or the other way around, anyway…

Now, if they could look a little less as if they wanted to pounce him the moment he left the plane…?

Sonic approached the hatch and Cap stepped aside, walking a few steps backwards along the float when Sonic began descending the narrow steps. Even Shirt backed up a bit. It probably counted as progress.

The moment Sonic set his feet on the float, something slammed into his back, knocking him over face first and pinning his body to the rubbery surface of the float. He didn't need that piece of colored fabric hanging into his vision to know who it was. The guy might've been lacking in strength, but he definitely had _weight_. Also, he'd apparently gotten lucky with his angle on Sonic's quills, kneeling just between the ones on his back, and flattening the ones on the back of his head with his torso. _Great_. Sonic gasped out a breath he couldn't hold any longer, struggling against Shirt's mass without jerking too much. Water sloshed against the underside of the float. Way too close for comfort.

Cap seemed to be about as startled as Sonic was. »What the hell did you do that for?« he yelled.

Shirt grunted. »Don't argue and get a rope or something.«

Cap stared at him.

Sonic pushed himself off the ground just enough to take a decent breath. He tensed up, bristling his quills and straining them against the guy's clothes. It was worth a shot.

"Has no one ever told you," Sonic wheezed, "that you don't grab a hedgehog… from behind?" A couple of his quills whipped loose and into Shirt's face. The guy shrieked and almost let go but then immediately scrambled and changed position. His shin now pressed even harder into Sonic's back, and he now used one hand to steady himself against the jetty and the other to pin Sonic's cheek to the float, doing a dubious version of some sort of sideways plank exercise.

Sonic's arms were sort of free now, though. If he pushed just right, he could get the guy off-balance, dropping him into the water below. …And then probably end up in it with him.

Shirt awkwardly rubbed his now red-streaked cheek against his shoulder and glared at Cap, spurring him into action. Cap climbed halfway into the plane and came back with a roll of thin rope. _Fantastic._

»Great job getting on good terms with that thing,« Cap said, tossing the rope with visible contempt.

»Well, maybe I don't wanna be on good terms with ›that thing‹,« Shirt said. »Now help me hold the head down.«

Cap hesitated, grinding his teeth, then came to help anyway and replaced Shirt with pressing Sonic's face into float only somewhat more carefully. Sonic worked his jaw into a more tolerable position, grunting. Shirt grabbed one of Sonic's hands, twirling rope around his wrist, then began connecting it with the other behind Sonic's back. Sonic resisted the urge to draw his arms from the guy's grasp. It would only lead to him being pinned down even longer. Plus, he needed his strength if they decided to tie up his legs. No way he'd let _that_ happen.

»Is there anything you know about this?« Cap asked. »Anything to do with Eff?«

»Nope. No idea,« Shirt said. »But if it does it's gonna stay on this island, one way or the other.«

»…Whatever.«

Shirt began climbing to his feet, motioning for Cap to let go. Then he tugged at the loose end of the rope he'd apparently decided to keep as a leash, awkwardly pulling Sonic to his feet.

"Hey, watch it," Sonic just managed to catch his balance on the narrow float while Shirt had already crossed over to the jetty and tugged again. So much frickin' water everywhere. Couldn't that thing have landed on the beach?

Sonic followed him onto the jetty, rope halfway wrapped around his body as he turned to face Shirt. There were only a handful of paces between them, but it was probably enough to gain some momentum and tackle the guy into the water.

…Only he'd probably not let go of the rope and pull Sonic with him in the process.

Was every attempt at defending himself going to result in an unplanned bath around here? Sonic decided to glower instead.

Shirt tugged, forcing Sonic to follow him to the end of the jetty and to a bollard Shirt could wrap the rope around. It had a nook, of course, preventing the rope from sliding off at the tip. When he was done, he slipped past Sonic and back to the plane. He tenderly touched his still lit up cheek.

Sonic sat down on the jetty, lightly rubbing his sore legs together and rolling his shoulders. Those guys were big and heavy, alright, but if he could keep his distance (and avoid getting surprised again…), he had a feeling he could actually take them on; get them off-balance; leap off of something to land a punch in their face. At least enough to have them out of his way if needed. Sonic began fumbling the rope around his wrists.

Shirt had grabbed one of the bags and wordlessly heaved it into the cargo. Cap still stood there, arms crossed, and watching Sonic with a frown on his face. »So, when Eff comes here, to his fancy remote holiday lodge,« Cap said, obviously addressing his friend. »This'll be the first thing he sees?«

Shirt emerged from the cargo as Cap gestured a hand at Sonic, not entirely moving his arms. His gaze followed the gesture and he looked at Sonic, lips forming a line. He grumbled. »Jeez. Just… throw him a knife or something before we leave.« He picked up the second bag and disappeared back inside.

»Do you have any idea what we found here?«

»Still no. You?« came the muffled response.

»No. But you realize this is the stuff that gets you famous, right?«

Shirt stuck his head out. »Unless it gets me _rich_ and famous, I'm not interested.« He disappeared again for a moment, then climbed out fully, heading for the house. »Besides, if Eff _is_ aware of this, I'm not going to be the one responsible if this guy disappears.«

»I guess.« Cap hummed. »We should try and cut a deal, tho', when we're back. Who knows?«

Shirt nodded. »There's plenty of time to think until we're back.«

They took another another trip to the house, where they apparently checked all the doors and windows. Then they headed back with two more crates to store in the cargo.

Sonic curled up and dragged his tied arms to the front of his body, trying to use his teeth to pull at the rope. He managed to get it loose in some places, but only to have it tighten up in others. What kind of frickin' super-knot had that guy made? Sonic let his arms drop, groaning in frustration and involuntarily locking gaze with Cap staring at him again the moment he had returned. Sonic narrowed his eyes.

Cap pulled his gaze away and entered the plane through the front hatch. A couple of moments later the engines roared up and his hand protruded from one of the front windows, giving a thumbs up. Shirt, who'd put the crates into the back, began untying the ropes they'd secured the plane with.

_Damn_, he had to hurry. He had to get on that plane if they wanted or not.

Sonic tugged at the rope again with his teeth, then stopped. He was an idiot. He basically had his hands free now. Why hadn't he just untied himself from that frickin' bollard already? He darted back to the edge of the jetty, looking for the loose end of the rope.

Behind him the engine's roar grew louder and Sonic took a peek over his shoulder to see Shirt disappear inside the plane. Sonic pulled the rope free from one hoop, then found it tangled up in another one and kept pulling from there. He hadn't heard the hatch fall shut yet, so he risked another glance behind. Shirt had climbed out again, took two steps along the jetty and placed some longish object on one of the planks, always keeping an eye on Sonic. Then he jumped back on the float, kicked the plane off and climbed inside.

What had that been about now? Did that thing look like a _jackknife_? Sonic had almost unraveled the rope from the bollard, but now it seemed as if he could just as well cut his hands free. Sonic's gaze switched between the bollard and the knife. He licked his lips.

The plane drifted off towards the shallow waters along the shore, getting ready to make a U-turn, and Sonic began pulling at the loose end of the rope again then frantically unwound it from the bollard. It better be faster than trying to cut himself loose now.

The rope unraveled and he drew it in to not have it catch on anything, then he fetched the knife, awkwardly holding it and the bundle of rope in front of his hips. The plane was already on its way back, and, with a bit of distance, now floated roughly parallel to the jetty again, gradually gaining speed. It would pass the protruding end of the jetty's L in a moment.

With the right timing, he could jump.

Screw landing in water again.

Sonic fumbled the knife into one of his pockets, bouncing on his feet and backing up on the short end of the jetty. Then he took off.

He reached the edge just as the plane was passing through, digging his soles into the jetty's wooden rim and propelling himself off and across the water headfirst. His angle was good, but the plane kept accelerating. At this rate he was going to hit its side with nothing to hold on to, then smack right into the rear wing.

_Aw, crap._ This was gonna hurt.

…Unless he could bounce off and land on top of the float fast enough.

Sonic stretched his hands and feet out in front of him, bracing for impact. He hit the side of the plane on all fours, clinging to it for a tiny moment until the difference in his and the plane's velocity registered and he began to peel off again. He nudged himself towards the float below, surrounded by gushing water.

The plane began lifting off and his soles hit the float's surface faster than he'd anticipated. A spray of water splashed into his face, throwing him off balance, then he was dunked into the sea below and everything went blank.

* * *

_At this point I don't think this is the kind of fic that works well with cliffhangers, but it was hard to pass this one up :b._


	4. Chapter 4: Broomstick

_ Guest: Ahaha, thanks xD. I'll never understand how people can _not _think about the different characteristics of the 'anthro' characters. I swear, every time someone writes about Sonic's 'chiseled jaw' I die a little inside. Dude doesn't even have a _chin_!_

* * *

**Chapter 4: Broomstick**

Sonic blinked his eyes open, the world an undefined smear. Something was wrong here. It was cold. Frickin' _glacial_. And his arms and shoulders felt like a bear had slept on them for three nights straight.

…Wait a second. Why were his feet dangling in the air? And why was it so frickin' _loud_? Sonic sobered up in an instant.

His arms were stretched out above him, wrists strangled by the rope they'd used to tie him up with. It had somehow caught in one of the float's clamps and apparently dragged him along when they took off. He could still see the island in the distance below. A small speck of land surrounded by endless ocean.

He was _off_.

…Not exactly as planned, but hey, no time to get picky.

Sonic tried to move his fingers, wind whipping around him. They felt thick like sausages, burning inside but freezing on the outside. If he kept hanging like this, they'd probably die off halfway to whatever destination those guys were heading for.

Above him, the stretch of rope was just long enough for him to have gotten a proper dunk in the water, which meant it was just long enough for his fingers to barely reach the underside of the float with nothing to hold on to. How the heck was he going to pull himself up like this?

At least he'd dropped in between the two floats. Otherwise the two alien guys up there would've long noticed him by now.

Sonic stretched one tied-up hand out, barely getting his swollen fingers around the rope. It was probably better if he tried to get his legs up instead. What was that part about daily chin-ups again? Sonic balled his fists and pulled himself up with sizzling arms until his nose was above wrist level, resisting the impulse to make his way hand over _teeth_ along the rope. Instead, he curled his legs in then pointed them skyward while having to straighten his elbows again, interlocking his feet with the rope and feeling his hands begin to throb from the decrease in strain on his wrist. Now he just had to kind of climb up the rope upside down. Piece of cake.

…He really wasn't an arms kinda guy.

Some grunting moments later he clung to one of the struts connecting the floats to the hull of the plane. He carefully crawled across to the float's surface, finally laying somewhat safely on his stomach, panting. His arms and hands stung and prickled as blood flowed back into them.

Sonic dragged himself into a sitting position, clamping his legs to both sides of the float, and letting the wind freely blast into his face for a moment. For some reason it never irritated him when he ran himself, but it always took him a bit getting used to when he rode the Tornado or some other vehicle. He knew it had to do with his Flow. But it was the kind of stuff he didn't question as long as it worked.

He unhooked the rope, curling his fingers. Then he reached into his pockets, feeling as if he wore seven pairs of gloves at once. He managed to produce the knife and fumbled it open, then carefully dragged it across the rope between his wrists using both hands. For once, he had to try and be patient. Sonic bit his lip.

Finally, his hands were free and the rope drifted off into the distance. Sonic rolled his shoulders, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fists. Blood flow. Nice having it. When his limbs felt vaguely normal again, his attention automatically went to other parts of his body. It was cold up here, and his pants, shoes, and gloves were still damp from his dive into the water. They'd dry up at some point, but he couldn't exactly do some kind of warm-up workout now. Also, it was _loud_. As long as there wasn't any land in sight, it was probably a good idea to try and get into that plane for a while.

Sonic got up. The hatch was on the other side, but the struts connecting the floats were good enough to climb across. Heights turned out to be far less of an issue than _depths_ in his experience…

On the other side, the baggage hatch had its hinges at the top. A bunch of fixed metal steps lead up to it which was a good thing, because he had no idea how he would've been able to reach the damn handle otherwise. Sonic climbed the steps, twisting and pulling at the handle until he was sure he'd unlocked the door, but the air pressure was keeping it shut, of course.

He stemmed his feet against the plane's side, pulling at the handle and risking a glance towards the front of the plane. If those guys had noticed him by now, they either didn't care or didn't know what to do. He'd notice early enough anyway.

There was a faint smack when the door finally budged. Then the wind rushed into the gap and slammed the hatch open, flinging Sonic upwards and above the plane. He squeezed the handle in a frickin' death grip.

The plane made a sudden dip and he hovered above its roof for a moment before smacking right back into it when the plane came back on track. Sonic groaned, dragging himself towards the opening wailing in the airstream. A moment later he stood inside the cargo and felt as if his body was heating up from the sudden lack of wind.

…Unfortunately, being in here did nothing for the frickin' _noise_, and he had no idea how he was supposed to get that hatch closed now without risking getting some part of his caught in it. Unless…

Sonic scanned the luggage. One of the large bags had a long strap he could clip off and probably draw the hatch in with. He crammed into the opening and fixed it to the inside handle, pulling and backing off when the hatch slammed close again.

The sudden silence was like a weight lifting off his ears. The sudden darkness—

—Sonic rubbed his face with a groan. "Enjoy your ride, genius…"

#

Sonic's eyes were still busy adjusting to the darkness, and the drone of the plane wasn't dulled as much as he'd initially thought. Closing the hatch felt like an increasingly bad idea, but he wasn't going to open the thing up again before he hadn't gotten at least somewhat warm in here (_and_ maybe found something to plug his ears…).

He felt his way to the wall that separated the back from the front of the plane and pressed one ear against it, trying to pick up anything from the guys up front. They sounded as if they were having a discussion.

—Well, if any one of them decided to be crazy enough to climb to the back of the plane and try to throw him out, _this_ time Sonic would use his sneakers for communication first. Couldn't hurt to rest up until then, though.

He groped his way across the two bags that he knew were strapped to the cargo floor. Their contents seemed to be mostly soft stuff so he stretched out across both of them and allowed his muscles to relax. A sudden exhaustion came over him and he let his eyes fall close, drifting off into sleep.

#

Sonic sat up again, rubbing his arms in the dark. He had no idea how much time had passed, but now he'd apparently had enough rest to realize how sore he was, and how cold he still felt despite having dried clothes by now. He wasn't used to feeling cold. Not with the amount of exercise he usually had, anyway. But then he also wasn't used to feeling hungry most of the time, so this was probably the point at which his current diet was starting to take its toll. He grimaced.

Not exactly top conditions.

Today had actually been the first day he'd managed to eat something other than fruit or nuts. He'd caught a whole of three fish using a pathetic, broken-off branch that barely gave him enough space between himself and the stream's water, because fish, for some unfair reason, were the only animals he at this point could bear to kill. And he didn't even _like_ fish. They'd still made for a much better meal than whatever he'd had before, but it apparently wasn't enough to make up for a week of eating garbage (or eating garbage backwards…).

At least he'd been smart enough to remove his gloves before taking the fish out. …Could've used that knife earlier.

By now he'd gotten somewhat used to the cargo's darkness. He could recognize the wall that separated him from the rest of the plane by a faintly glowing line around its edges. But that was about it. He'd have to keep feeling around if he didn't want to open the hatch again.

Didn't those guys have drinks earlier? Maybe they'd brought other foodstuffs as well. Sonic began rummaging through the bags.

#

Alright. So far he'd found a large piece of fabric that was probably a bed-sheet, a bunch of what appeared to be used towels, a couple of cases of various sizes (which unfortunately only had what felt like tools in them, not food…), a handful of bottles with sharp-edged lids he couldn't open, and a few glossy feeling, bound stacks of paper that were most likely magazines. It was kind of frustrating.

Sonic stuffed most of the stuff back into the bags (if only to have his padding back) and sat down on them, huddling into the bed-sheet he'd extracted. He was still a bit cold. But now he was also _bored_. How long was this flight gonna take?

He shuffled into a lying position, feeling something tug at the fabric then thunk to the floor. Sonic sat up again and began fumbling until he found a longish and somewhat heavy object with a slightly wider end. It fit well inside his hand and there was a knob beneath his thumb. He pressed, then barely bit off a yelp when the light hit his eyes. He scrunched them shut with a groan.

A torch.

Sonic aimed the torch someplace else and carefully blinked his eyes open. In this light the cargo looked tiny, and he only now realized how humongous the fabric was that he'd draped around himself. He shoved the stuff aside and dug into the bags again, taking out the stack of what he thought were magazines. He tossed them aside and made himself comfortable, then picked one at random. It had a shiny cover showing four angular letters and a close-up of a face—no doubt of the same kind of alien as the ones piloting the plane. His first thought was that it looked like a female, but then he wasn't so sure anymore.

Sonic slowly opened the cover. The first two pages had a bit of illegible text that looked as if it was upside down, then came a picture of some guy that, judging by his relaxed pose, had to be an advert, and then came what looked like the first page of actual content—a bunch of text with seemingly random images to the side. Sonic started flipping through the pages.

At first glance everything looked familiar: There were some animals on one photo, a bunch of dolls on another, and a factory on the next. But then he reminded himself that he was on an alien planet and everything got weird. What if those animals weren't feral. What if those dolls were _actually_ running a theater, and what if that factory was really a kind of apartment house? Sonic let the hand holding the torch drop into his lap and groaned. After a moment, he held it up again and browsed some more.

What he learned from the magazines was strangely useless. They had cars and planes, they had homes and cities, and every one of them seemed to wear more clothes all at once than he even _owned_ (not counting shoes, anyway…). It was probably a good thing he hadn't already ditched his pants on the island.

But he'd expected something else from being on another planet of all places.

The only thing that actually felt alien was that there _really_ seemed to be only one sentient species on this planet (that, or he'd somehow managed to pick the most exclusionary magazine in history). It was gonna make things difficult.

#

The torch had gone out some time during filing through the last magazine, freaking him out a bit. He didn't care that it was dark again (he could just go and open the hatch anyway), but if the lamp undercharged they were probably still reeeally far from the mainland. He'd sort of been prepared for a long flight—at some point it had dawned on him that the noise of the plane could only mean it had the kind of fuel-driven engine used for long-range or high-altitude flights, but that still didn't mean they had to fly for long, too. Hopefully it was just the lamp's chaos drive getting old…

He settled back into the pile of bed-sheet and closed his eyes. Nothing like making time pass more quickly than falling asleep for a while.

…Nothing like making time pass more slowly, however, than having your mind run on overdrive while trying.

Those magazines got him thinking. …Not that he hadn't thought about his current situation before, but up until now he'd done a good job repressing any stupid thought before it had the chance of putting him into a foul mood. Being in a place with a weird moon, strange fruit, and odd looking animals had apparently only been enough to make him acknowledge ending up on another planet. Now that he'd actually seen some of the people living here, everything felt much more tangible all of a sudden. And now the magazines…

He was on another planet.

For real.

Damn.

From what he'd seen in the magazines the people here seemed to be about as advanced as he was used to from home, which was good. But that also meant they weren't the 'casual trip through space' kind of advanced, which meant a Star Post was probably still the only way for him to get back home. What if the one on the island had been the only one around? Was he gonna be stuck twice over when they finally reached the mainland or wherever? Heck, he couldn't even _talk_ to those guys.

Sonic rubbed his face with a groan. It was stupid and useless to worry about these things when there was nothing he could change. He'd have to figure stuff out when it happened. As usual.

He absently pulled out the now battered candy wrapper he still had in his pocket and twisted it between his fingers. Only one of the mints was left. It had probably gotten wet and sticky when he fell into the water earlier, but he was sure he could still peel the paper off. …Only now he wasn't so sure if he even wanted to. He'd carried it around like this for three days now and somehow couldn't bring himself to eat the last piece. Every time he held the wrapping in his hands he felt as if he was about to cut off the only bond he still had with home. It just didn't seem right. Also, it seemed way too early for actually feeling like this.

He wasn't supposed to get sentimental over a piece of candy.

He tucked the wrapper back into his pocket and rolled himself into the blanket. This wasn't helping anything. Instead, he had to get some more sleep out of the first spot in a week that almost classified as a bed.

#

Sonic's stomach lurched, pulling him out of a doze. It was a familiar feeling. In fact, it was an awesome feeling. It meant that the plane was descending.

The plane dropped again and Sonic's stomach with it until the motion became too steady to tell whether they actually descended anymore. Moments later the plane hit ground and shook along an uneven path until it slowed down to a crawl. They seemed to maneuver carefully for a while, then abruptly came to a halt. Finally, the constant roar of the engine died down and Sonic's ears filled with the white noise of silence.

_Out._ He needed to get out before those guys decided to lock the hatch from outside or something. They couldn't not have figured out he was here. Sonic groped his way towards the hatch.

From the front came a muffled exchange, then the plane swayed a bit as the two guys apparently climbed onto the float. One of them seemed to walk along it and towards Sonic's hatch. Sonic hesitated and pricked his ears only to instantly interrupt himself again. No wasting time now. Those guys knew he was here.

He unlocked the hatch and pushed it open, swinging it hard against the plane's hull and bracing himself for the light from outside—but nothing came. The sun had already set and he was looking at an enormous lake surrounded by city lights. A waft of crisp but still sticky air engulfed him, as if it had been a warm day in an already cool season. It smelled like a strange mix of seaweed and… rust?

The two guys that brought him here stood at the edge of the jetty and had frozen mid-mooring the plane, apparently exclusively to stare at him.

»Oh shit, you were right!« Shirt jolted into motion. He jumped on top of the float, arms reaching for the open hatch.

"Oh, no. No way, man. You had your chance." Sonic kicked himself off the hatch's rim before the guy could block the entrance, and leaped across the float towards the jetty hands first. He landed in a roll and got to his feet again in one smooth motion, then he took a moment to stretch the remains of cargo-induced stiffness out of his system. Shirt stood beside the hatch and let his arms drop, sharing a look with Cap.

The jetty was broad, straight, and much shorter than the one on the island. It ended in a couple of steps leading up to a tall wicket gate halfway swallowed by lakeside shrubbery. A box-shaped building peeked out behind it and it sounded as if there was a road nearby. Sonic wouldn't have much trouble getting across that thing—not even with Cap standing between him in the middle of the jetty, answering Shirt's look with a shrug. Cap held one of the ropes in one hand and some kind of silver contraption in the other that might or might not've been a phone.

»Yo. Master moorer. Any suggestions?« came Shirt's voice from the float. The guy had apparently decided not to make another attempt at grabbing Sonic (not that Sonic would've given him another chance…) but he still stood there in a lowered stance now, ready for anything.

»Well.« Cap shifted the phone in his fingers, adopting a kind of goalkeeper stance himself. »The thing could've waited with breaking out until after I've called Eff. _Now_, I guess, we'll have to try and catch it _again_, because _someone_ had decided that attacking the thing was the best first thing to do and it's probably gonna stay hostile no matter what we do.« His eyes briefly glowered towards Shirt who let out a groan in response.

Sonic stood a bit straighter and rolled his shoulders. He was in a much better spot than he was back on the island. There was still water pretty much everywhere around him, alright, but the jetty was wider, and he had a good distance to the two guys. If he timed it right, he could knock over Cap with a momentum-kick before Shirt even had time to react, and then just scale the fence and be gone.

…Then again he could also just get behind both by skipping over the plane.

Yeah. That'd do.

"Well, it's been long enough guys," he said. "Guess I'll see ya again in case I need a ride back." He gave them a sloppy salute, then dashed forward and towards the plane again. He kicked himself off of its side, rolled across the wing and came back down in a jog behind Cap, that carried him right towards the gate. The guy spun with a startle, and Sonic crossed the gate in an eye-blink.

Shirt stared at the sky in defeat. »You could've at least taken a picture, you moron.«

#

Sonic made it to the top of a tall, flat-roofed building. It stood a bit uphill but still close to the lake with only a broad road and a steep incline in-between. From here, he could still make out the small air harbor he'd come from, but it was far from the only spot where boats and planes docked along the lake's shore. With all the lights in the distance he couldn't even make out the edges of the city he'd ended up at. It seemed to spread forever across the surrounding hills in each direction. If he'd gotten here during the day, he probably would've had trouble even crossing the road below without sticking out like a bald spot.

Sonic pulled out a narrow flyer he'd snatched from a stash by the air harbor's building. It had mostly text on it, and only a small picture of a plane told him it had anything to do with the place at all. If he ever needed to get back there for some reason, though, he at least had something to wave in front of people's noses. Hey, he could think ahead _sometimes_.

For now, though, there didn't seem all that much he had to figure out. As long as he managed to find something to eat and drink around here, he'd be good to go for anything that came up—at least until the weather got bad. If his hunch was right, it was probably early fall right now (provided this planet had the same seasons). But then, actually, he could also worry about that some other time. Or, better yet: never. Because he was going to find the heck out of those Star Posts and go back home before the weather even became an issue. He just needed an idea of where to start…

On Mobius, he just occasionally happened to come across the odd Star Post, but he'd never bothered to think about their surroundings. He'd heard somewhere that they mostly stood in remote locations, but he'd seen so many of them right in the middle of cities and towns that he didn't really know what he was supposed to look for. It meant he could find one of those pretty much anywhere and nowhere. And then he also had to get lucky catching an _active_ one in the first place.

Sonic put the flyer back into his pockets and grumbled. Being in a foreign place with no map was supposed to feel exciting, not _daunting_.

Behind him, the roofs of numerous similar looking houses stretched into the night. It looked a whole lot like an area where people lived—not some work or industrial zone. Some still had their lights on, and from one of the closer houses' windows came a faint flicker.

Sonic made it to the edge of the roof and climbed downwards. It wasn't as if he had anything more pressing to do (aside from that one particular pressing matter after sitting in a cargo for, like, forever), so he could just as well check out what was behind that window. Gotta start somewhere.

#

Sonic swung himself across a garden fence and onto a stone paved pathway leading past the side of a home. It seemed to end in a stuffed but orderly backyard surrounded by a tall hedge. He didn't need to go that far back though. The window in question was by the side of the house, still emanating the same soft flicker. Below stood a longish wooden table that—wait… No. Sonic crossed his arms and raised an eye-ridge.

It was a bench.

And he had to climb on top it to even get a look through the window.

"Really, guys," he muttered, shaking his head. "Do you _have_ to be this tall…?"

Sonic climbed on top of the creaking bench and took a peek inside. He'd already half expected to find a running TV in there, but it was still a strange thing to look at. It was needlessly bulky and stood inside a massive wall unit. Left and right, doors lead out of the semi-dark living room that only had one person inside. She—he assumed for some reason—had her back to him, comfortably slumped into a couch with her feet on the table in front.

The show on TV was about people in a hospital or something. He had no idea what those guys were doing exactly, but they spent a whole lot of time _eating_ when they weren't out doctoring. Talk about genius timing.

And they all kinda looked the same—aside from a couple of color variations, anyway—which was just plain _weird_. Also, everything else looked so utterly normal, he couldn't decide if he found it comforting or unsettling.

…Or disappointing. He was supposed to be on an alien planet, for Chaos' sake. They better had some flying cars lying around.

The woman behind the window turned and Sonic ducked beneath the sill out of reflex. He poised there for a moment, and when nothing else happened, rolled off the bench and snuck into the backyard. The sight of a bunch of fur-less people eating and drinking on TV hadn't been the best way to remind him that he hadn't even had so much as a drink since he'd left the island. If this world really was as ordinary as it appeared, though, he was pretty sure he'd find at least a faucet back there.

He stepped lightly through a patch of tall noodly plants that had several fist-sized fruit hanging from them. Sonic picked one that had a firm smooth surface and didn't look like anything he'd seen on the island. It couldn't be that bad if those guys had it in their garden, though. He was about to take a bite, then hesitated, glancing at the house's dark backdoor. Normally he'd just knock and ask in such a situation—

Or, well, _normally_ he'd just go and buy something at the next food stop. But this wasn't 'normally', and if he knocked on their door now he'd probably just earn a kick to the butt with no way to explain himself. He'd rather have something to eat first.

Sonic bit into the fruit. It turned out to be hollow inside, looking a bit like an oversized chili—only not as spicy and otherwise pretty watery. But it was still perfectly perfect, because it wasn't a frickin' fruit but a _vegetable_, and he hadn't had one of those in ages.

Sonic picked one of the smaller but even juicier vegetables next and ate until he'd reached an uncomfortable state between feeling stuffed and still feeling hungry. He'd probably be fine for a while, but he doubted he could exert himself much.

Next to the patch he found what he was initially looking for: A bent pipe with a valve, sprouting from the ground. He crouched down and twisted it, summoning up a hollow whine followed by water gushing out at the volume of a waterfall. He hurriedly twisted it shut again and paused for a moment, grimacing. When nothing happened, he turned the faucet on again more gently and took the time to drink and rinse his hands. If this turned out to be standard garden equipment, he could strike off water from the list of his worries.

Sonic got back to his feet and stretched himself, feeling another bout of exhaustion catch up with him. His gaze was drawn to a small shed with only three walls standing in one corner of the garden. Inside, some sort of canopy swing with a thickly padded seat stood between the clutter. Sonic took a deep breath.

Even after a week on the island, he didn't actually mind sleeping outside—on trees, on roofs, or just out in the grass. He was fine with that. He frequently did so on Mobius anyway. But the idea of sleeping on the padded seat of this particular suspended bench made his feet walk on autopilot. He pushed himself up onto the bench and rolled on his back, feeling his quills relax and his tired muscles melt into the slightly musty padding.

"Sweet Chaos… if these guys wake me before morning, I'll… kick their _shins_ or something…"

He was out the moment he closed his eyes.

#

There was pressure in his side—a somewhat rhythmic poking. Something was making strange noises, too, and Sonic rolled over trying to find a better position. Then a rough, strawy thing landed in his face and he jerked awake, frantically pushing it aside. The bench shifted from his sudden movement and he tumbled to the paved ground with a yelp. Beside him were the slipper-clad feet of a particularly hairless person.

"What the—!?" He got another strawy slap to the face.

»Shoo!«

Sonic had a moment to look into the wrinkly face of a curly-haired woman before another swing of broom came his way. This time he dodged.

"Hey! Will you cut it out and listen for a—"

The woman swung again. »Get out of my garden you… _creature_, you!«

Sonic scrambled up the side of the garden shack then leaped off of it onto the roof above the backdoor. Someone came out below.

»Gran, what's up?« she said.

It was the one from the night before. A brown-haired (now somewhat tousled looking) woman in a gown, who seemed a whole lot younger than the one currently pointing at him.

»This,« the elder said with indignation in her voice, »was in my shed.« The younger one glanced up at where she pointed. Sonic resisted the urge to shrug and quip at them. It was pointless anyway.

»You're kidding…,« she said.

They both stared at him for a moment and he couldn't help but stare back. Then the younger one sped back inside and came out holding a bulky something to her ear that seemed to work suspiciously like a phone.

Well, whatever. He wasn't going to be around for long anyway.

Sonic moved a few steps up the roof and only now noticed how high up the neighborhood really was. From here he saw a sea of roofs slowly disappear into a sheet of morning mist the further the hill descended, only to ascend again at the city center, where massive skyscrapers rose above the mist and gleamed in the early sun's rays. Sonic whistled softly. Now _that_ looked more like something worthy of an alien planet. This wasn't the kind of skyline he was used to—not on Westside Island anyway. Unless you were really far into the mainland it seemed to be way too much of a bother having crazy-high skyscrapers everywhere. You'd have to make room for soil and plants on every other level, just to get all the chaos-driven electronics to work on the upper floors. It did look cool when it was done, and it worked fine for the most part, but living in such a monstrosity wasn't particularly popular for some reason. So, either he was really far into the mainland right now or those guys had found a better solution how to get their chaos energy out of the ground—or they just didn't care.

The tone below had become just a little bit desperate. »No, I'm perfectly sure someone did not dye their cat blue.« A pause. »No, I'm not ›under the influence of a controlled substance‹.«

The elder readjusted her grip on the broom, then had to tear her eyes off of Sonic when the younger shoved the phone into her line of sight. »Here, hold on to those guys for a moment!« She ran back inside as soon as the elder took it.

On a balcony across the road, a similarly clothed man shuffled into the sun-rays, shielding his eyes. He looked about to call something, but stopped dead the moment his eyes met Sonic's.

The younger woman came back with a greyish box in her hands, pushing various buttons and lighting up a small screen. She pointed it towards Sonic.

Sonic straightened up. _That_ one was a camera now. But he hadn't learned nearly enough about this place to be comfortable ending up on a photo, already. "Oh, hey, pictures are nice and all," he called. "But I got a city to check out. So, see ya!"

He slid down to the edge of the roof, then jumped back on top of the little shack and through the branches of a small tree towards the next backyard. The voices behind him became slightly frantic, putting a grin on his face. Apparently, the kind of background noise he was used to when running through backyards and across rooftops was language-independent.


	5. Chapter 5: I Wanna See the Dinosaurs!

_ Sonichero: Thanks for the reviews :D. English is not my native language, so it's doubly nice to hear that I'm doing well. Tails _is _gonna show up, but much later (as will most of the characters, actually). I had a bit too much fun thinking about Sonic being stuck alone on Earth, so it's gonna be a while ^^;. _

_This one is quite long. Have fun :)!_

* * *

**Chapter 5: I Wanna See the Dinosaurs!**

Sonic had made it into the center of the city in no time, now running at an easy pace across the rooftops—just fast enough to have enough momentum for the jumps between buildings, and slow enough to have his mind free for thinking about something else. The massive buildings not only made for a nice obstacle course (and a cool view) but also kept him relatively out of sight. …Although he probably shouldn't have whooped when he leapt across that four-lane road some ways back.

He'd spent half of the morning digging through his memory again, trying to come up with some place to start looking for Star Posts. On Mobius they were just _there_ —remnants of another time. The only thing he remembered was, when back home the Star Post had just geared up out of nowhere, he'd felt a strange surge. As if it had tried to suck in all the energy from its surroundings and pooled it up inside the sphere on its top. It seemed like a real struggle. But that wasn't much of an insight. Star Posts consumed energy—big deal.

There was just… _something_ odd about this planet when it came to Chaos energy. There was plenty, he could sense that much—not that he knew what it felt like when it wasn't there entirely—but it still seemed to behave differently in some way. The island he'd been on should've teemed with rings. It was far enough out, lots of plants and not too much wildlife (or people…)—just the kind of place where excess Chaos began to 'manifest' in ring form. But he hadn't found a single one… Had the Star Post just drawn in all the excess when it activated? Had he just left the island too early and not given the area enough time to recover for it to work again…?

But then, if it took so much energy, how would the Star Posts right in the middle of Metropolis or Casino Night ever have worked, where the plant-life-people-balance was pretty much a lasting issue? It just didn't make sense.

Man, trying to think on a basically empty stomach was such a waste.

There was still that one vision to mull over, though. Some egg-shaped dude walking around in a cave sparkling with Emerald shards. By now Sonic had no doubt that the shape he'd seen back there was one of the aliens from this planet. Even if the guys that had flown the plane hadn't been of any help in matters of 'Star Post', there obviously had to be _someone_ with knowledge. Could he figure out who the guy was? He really had to find a way to communicate somehow—preferably without them starting to whip out ropes and brooms at some point.

…Piece of cake.

Sonic leapt off the ledge of a gravel-covered roof, dropped about two stories down and caught himself in a roll. Then he sprinted sideways up the wall of another building and wall-jumped further up until he emerged on a huge but empty roof paved like a gigantic terrace. He had no idea why those guys wasted so much space with virtually nothing when they could've just put some gardens up here. But at least this way he didn't accidentally run into people.

From the roof's edge Sonic had a good view on a four-lane crossroads that was filled with people, vehicles and all sorts of noises. At first glance he felt like standing above a city to the far east, but the differences sank in almost the same moment. Like, how the people down there only looked as diverse as they did because they wore layers upon layers of clothes, or how the cars seemed to emit a constant muted drone that he only knew from planes or old work machines.

A blue and white vehicle started pushing its way through the traffic, turning on flickering blue lights in intervals. It apparently got impatient after a moment and switched to a shrill siren, shoving past the cars in its way and racing off into another part of the city. It was probably some kind of police.

Opposite, a large yellow bus came to a halt beside the road, and a bunch of samey-aged people piled out. When the bus left they got an announcement from a gray-haired man, who then ushered them along the road to some unknown destination. Apparently even aliens couldn't escape school. Heh.

Sonic's eyes wandered back to where the bus had stopped. The small shelter had some kind of advertising on its side, and something about the combination of red and blue on the poster caught his eye. It was probably just his one-track mind working overtime, but he had to go and check it out anyway. Sonic rounded the housetop and took a run-up for a leap across the road and to the neighboring building slightly below. On the other side his momentum carried him across a parapet down to an even lower roof that picked a really lousy moment to inform him it was actually a parking lot. The moment his feet touched the ground he scrambled out of sight into the space between two cars at the edge of the roof.

He crouched, taking a peek underneath both cars to check if someone was passing by. The parking lot looked positively deserted and he straightened up again with a huff, momentarily irritated with himself. It didn't matter if anyone saw him, did it? So why did he feel like having to be on guard all the time? He'd be gone in a breeze anyway.

In a way, he knew the answer already. To him, it was perfectly clear that there wasn't much of a difference between himself and the people living here. But if they really weren't used to seeing other sentient species, it probably took them some time to figure out the same thing for themselves. Especially if he couldn't just talk to them. Man, this was gonna suck.

From the car beside him a pair of tiny hands curled around the rim of the open passenger window. They belonged to a black-haired kid who was now poking its head out and began studying him with comparatively large eyes. It was probably the first one of their species that didn't look taller than Sonic himself…

»Who're you?« she asked.

Sonic opened his mouth for a response then closed it again, stifling a groan. Nope, talking to kids wasn't gonna work either.

She stuck her arm out and tried again, apparently. »I'm Emily.«

He stared at her outstretched hand. Was he supposed to do something? Oh, right, those guys on TV had been shaking hands all the time. Whatever worked. He edged closer and gently took her hand into three of his fingers, pausing for a moment. She squeezed a little, then let go again, grinning a tiny-toothed grin.

Someone approached the car and Sonic tensed. The girl followed his gaze and watched for a moment while the someone in question opened the trunk and began putting stuff inside. The girl spun back and put a finger to her lips, wide-eyed.

Sonic grinned.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I gotta leave now, anyways. Nice meeting you."

He gave her a curt wave, then took off across the low railing behind him, crossing the narrow gap to the next building's lower roof.

At least communication wasn't entirely hopeless.

#

From his new vantage point on another roof and between a bunch of tubes and vents Sonic had a clean look at the poster on the side of the bus stop. It showed what looked like a historical artwork of the intersection he'd watched before from above—and the bus stop was replaced by a Star Post of all things.

Sometimes he really had more luck than brains.

…Or…not. Because the bus stop in its place meant that the Star Post wasn't there anymore.

Sonic sat down and crossed his arms, somehow torn between feeling lucky and feeling frustrated. Now he knew that the Star Post on the island hadn't been the only one. But now he also knew that those things could be found virtually anywhere, just like back home.

There were a bunch of markings in one of the poster's corners that looked like a description or an address of sorts. But it wasn't like those symbols meant anything to him. At some point (preferably at night) he probably had to try and 'ask' someone about it. Until then though, he could try to get lucky.

…And figure out where to find something to _eat_ on the way.

#

Sonic stomped through a patch of green in another residential area, muttering under his breath. He'd spent some time scouting the city for more hints on that Star Post but found nothing. Then, when he also hadn't managed to find anything to eat, it had taken him the rest of the day to make his way out of the city center again. Not because he was lousy at finding his way (he was actually pretty good at that), but because unlike in the morning there were people frickin' _everywhere_. He could cover a lot of ground staying on roofs, but the further out he got, the further apart the buildings were—with roads pretty much everywhere in-between. Whenever he passed by the odd patch of green, he waited for a quiet moment to check it out, but apparently parks and backyards weren't the kind of places those guys went to grab something to eat either, so he'd been completely out of luck. At least most of the taller buildings had water hoses on their roofs, otherwise he'd been this close to just hopping down and stealing drinks from the hands of passerbys, which… _did_ work sometimes. But most of the time, whatever he grabbed ended up as a pile of glop.

Maybe this was just the moment for him to start practicing…

He found another backyard to pick some greens from, but he simply couldn't get as excited about vegetables again as he had the day before— especially not when there was this _stupid scent_ in the air. Someone around the neighborhood was having a barbecue—or whatever those people had. And the smell of grilled meat was frickin' everywhere. He needed to find a place to sleep, but he needed to find the source of that scent first and then get as far away from it as possible.

Sonic ran both hands across his face, groaning with frustration.

He was going to take the whole fricking grill if he had to.

#

Sonic found the place and made it to their roof, now vaguely hidden as he leaned back in the shade of one of its corners.

It was a full-fledged garden party going on below—a good thirty people chatting, eating, and drinking around a pool that nobody used. The grill in question stood at the far end of the garden in front of a relatively high fence and tormented him with its scent whenever the guy in front of it lifted the lid. If anyone was going to point him out up here, it was going to be because of his growling stomach.

The people down there looked young-ish—as far as Sonic could tell anyway—which didn't exactly help him in judging their reaction. But he was fairly sure there'd be enough time for them to actually _have_ one if he decided to get down and raid the grill. The party was kind of crowded, and the fence behind the grill was too tall for him to just reach across from the other side. Also, there was a (currently unoccupied) pool not too far from it. A stupid pit filled with lots of stupid water you couldn't even drink. He'd rather have some space between it and himself.

A _clang_ snapped him out of his thoughts. A bit to his right, at the lowest part of the roof and facing the pool, someone was putting up a ladder. It began to tremble slightly.

A bunch of partiers turned their heads, some cheering or raising their cups. One of them, a girl with a haircut that couldn't decide between long and short, pointed a fist-sized, shiny gadget in the general direction of the ladder. It was probably another camera. Sonic unconsciously edged further into the roof's shade. Had they pointed him out or what?

A hand emerged from below the roof, then another holding a cup partly spilling its drink. The climber seemed to talk to someone below as he slowly approached the rooftop, then he turned around and immediately locked eyes with Sonic.

The guy screamed as if he'd gotten his tail under a rock.

Sonic dug his feet into the roof and made a dash for the ridge. He flipped across, slid down the other side and landed softly on the lawn below. Then he sped across the empty street and was on top of the opposite house in an eye-blink.

After a few moments, two figures emerged from the shadow of the house across. One of them didn't seem to wear any pants.

It was the guy who'd been on the ladder before, followed by the girl with the camera. He was pacing and looking around while she only stared at the screen in her hands. She seemed pretty puzzled. And when the guy went to look at the screen with her, they shared a series of frustrated shrugs and head-shakes.

A third one made it to the street and looked around for a bit, then he imitated the guy's shriek and broke down on the sidewalk in a fit of laughter.

Sonic rolled onto his back with a groan. Now he had to wait forever for them to calm down again. If he went over now, they'd probably even manage to film him properly, and he wasn't too eager to show up on their version of the internet before gaining at least _some_ confidence about having ended up here.

Maybe there'd be leftovers in the morning. No decent party ended with people cleaning up afterward. Right…?

#

Sonic awoke covered in a sheet of chilly morning mist. He was still on the other roof, a dim haze shrouding the entire neighborhood. The world was still asleep.

He peeled himself off the shingles and gently shook the dampness out of his fur and muscles. Waking up before the sun could warm you up was definitely one of the downsides of spending the night in the open. Sonic stretched, stifling a yawn, then descended onto the lawn in front of the house. The house opposite looked just as asleep as the others.

Sonic took a breath, then simply walked across the street and into the other home's backyard.

The place was only a minor mess—someone had obviously tried to pick up the trash afterward—but the most important thing was still there: the grill. He gave the pool a wide berth and went to lift the grill's lid. A rough, warm scent of coal and spice wafted out and he could almost feel it settle on his tongue. But the grillage was empty.

_Chaos!_ Sonic resisted the urge to cry out, clenching his teeth. Why'd they have to clean it all up?

He gave the place another look. On a flimsy looking table nearby (an actual table table this time…) were tipped over cups, smudged paper plates, dirty tissues and _whatever_ still lying around, but not one fricking bit of anything that looked edible.

His gaze fell on a large bin by the side of the grill. All the half-eaten bits and perfectly grilled leftovers were probably in there. But he wasn't desperate enough to dig in someone's trash already, was he? Sonic's face pulled into a grimace.

…He could take a look, at least…

The upper half of the bin was filled up with a puffed up, semi-clear plastic bag. It looked as if someone had just shoved all the easy to grab stuff into it then tied it up—clearly nothing he wanted to dig deeper into. Next came a bunch of dirty tissues which he gingerly picked up and dropped beside the bin. He paused at a silver and yellow-ish bag that still looked half-full, but then his attention got drawn to a crumpled stack of newspaper sheets that still held a white piece of meat in them. It had the tell-tale stripes of a hot grill iron—just what he'd hoped for. Sonic pulled it out with the care of a jeweler, weighing it in his hands. He spread the paper and took a tentative smell at the meat cradled inside. It seemed well enough. Then he tried to shift it and it kept sticking to the paper like glue. The underside was still raw.

"Oh, come _on_," he groaned. He tossed the bundle back into the bin, ready to dump his stupid idea with it, then caught a glimpse of the paper's backside. It showed a bunch of banners, one of them looking exactly like the image he'd seen at the bus stop. Beside the banners was the photo of a building and a strange, slim tower he thought he recognized after spending the day in the city. Sonic reached back into the bin and peeled the sheet from the rest of the newspaper, not touching the meat.

Behind him, something clattered to the ground and Sonic spun, fist clenching around the paper. On the other side of the pool beneath a roofed niche stood a young-ish guy with messed-up hair frozen in mid-crouch. His eyes were glued on Sonic while he blindly felt for some object on the ground. He held some white stick between the fingers of his other hand.

Eventually the guy got hold of the thing he'd dropped and rose again, but only just enough to stay on Sonic's eye level. He stood there, hunched over and chewing on his lips, apparently trying to find something to say. After a moment he settled on a drawn-out, doubtful »Hello?«

Sonic let out the air he'd been holding in and rolled his eyes. He really wasn't in the mood for dealing with one of those freaks right now—especially not before getting some frickin' food into himself. His stomach had probably turned the size of a cashnut by now.

…He wouldn't mind having some of those now, though.

Sonic shook his head and turned around. In his mind he'd already scaled the fence, but then his eyes got drawn to the small, shiny bag in the bin and he reached to grab it before he took off through the neighborhood.

#

He was far out on a hill and by the edge of a forest when he relaxed again and sat down on a patch of grass. He put the bag at his side and un-crumpled the piece of paper still in his hands: An image of a square-ish building and a slender tower next to a row of banners. He could find the place again, pretty sure. Couldn't be too hard to find the Star Post once he was there.

Sonic stuck the sheet into his pocket and picked up the bag again, carefully opening it. A strong, spicy scent wafted out and prickled his nose fiercely enough he had to turn his head. Either the stuff was really intense, or he'd been way too long without spices. Hopefully it was just the latter.

He reached inside and pulled out a single, thin chip. When he put it into his mouth it almost stung his tongue and he had to blink away a couple of tears welling up. This definitely wasn't supposed to happen. But then the spice waned, and the chip turned starchy in his mouth and he realized he'd already put another one in without thinking. He could get used to this.

The bag was gone far too quickly and Sonic lay down in the still somewhat damp grass, staring into a brightening sky and idly running his tongue along his teeth. He could've done with a toothbrush ages ago, and those chips hadn't exactly made it any better. Hopefully he could at least find a stream or a spring or something before going back again. But he'd have to make himself familiar with the surroundings sooner or later, anyway—especially if the city area only left him with plundering vegetable beds.

The line of trees was enough to assure him that the area he'd ended up at had a whole different climate than the island. Instead of being short and gnarly, the trees were tall and strong, and the grass had rich soil underneath, unlike the sandy earth on the island. It was close to what he was used to from home, which meant there'd be a whole different range of plants around—which also meant he had to figure out which ones were edible all over again… But then there were probably also animals other than fish and birds around, and _that_ meant he could increase his chances of finally finding one of the 'could bear to kill'-variety.

Maybe today was hunting-, not gathering-time for a change.

#

Sonic knew he was a lousy tracker. But he also knew how to make up for it: randomly bursting into a group of critters and giving chase (or being chased…) afterward. There was nothing on Mobius that could match his speed on its own feet, and it looked as if this planet didn't stand much of a chance either.

Now he had his arms wrapped around a wriggling, fluffy bundle of fur that suspiciously looked like a bunny, and he struggled to shift himself into a sitting position without losing his grip. When he finally held the creature in his lap it began to calm down somewhat, sniffing curiously as he tentatively ran a hand through its fur. Sonic was ready to hold it tight if it tried to escape.

But now what? He had go get that bunny dead before he could eat it, obviously…

He had a knife, alright. But he couldn't just stab the animal with it, could he? Was the head a good spot? Or the throat? That'd make a mess. He was probably supposed to break its neck first then use the knife to cut it open afterward, right…?

Sonic adjusted his grip, licking his lips in concentration. The bunny looked at him with beady eyes, tilted its head, then snuggled into his lap.

Sonic let his head hang with a sigh and loosened his hold. How was he supposed to do this? He loved meat. Meat was awesome. Apparently though, he still wasn't desperate enough to provide himself with it by his own hand. He felt like a frickin' hypocrite now.

The creature stayed in his lap for a while, then jumped to its feet, took a look around, and darted away. Sonic's gaze stayed glued to the bush it had disappeared into until he positively stared through. He should've taken the semi-raw piece of meat from the bin and roasted it into an edible state himself. Now he was back to nuts and berries again—at least until he got _really_ desperate. And that'd better not happen before he found a way back home.

#

When night came Sonic made it back into the city, now lurking on top of a box-shaped building that belonged to a roughly u-shaped complex surrounding a wide inner yard the size of a sports field. Towards its entrance—a now closed-off gate—stood a couple of tall, arched structures that softly illuminated several pathways leading through and across a shallow pool that took up most of the yard's ground.

If the bright, wiry tower nearby was any indication, this was the place he'd seen in the paper. There were even a couple of banners hanging on the outside walls that had the same style as the one he'd seen, though none of them showed a Star Post.

The complex itself was dark, but some of the buildings had tall enough windows for the surrounding city lights to shine through. Sonic had seen the vague shapes of several stands and displays inside and figured the place had to be a museum or an exhibition of some kind. But from outside he had no way of telling whether the Star Post was in there or not. He had to find a way inside.

A couple of doors seemed to lead into the buildings from the inner yard, but he'd be surprised if any of them were open. Not that it hurt to try, though…

From the inner yard below came the metallic click of a lock unlatching, followed by a creak and something scraping against the ground. There were footsteps and some shuffling until it was quiet again. Sonic leaned over the roof's ledge.

A guy in what looked like a uniform came out of the building and sat down on a stone bench on the pathway leading towards the door Sonic couldn't see. He ignited what was apparently a cigarette that soon began to fill the air with a faint, stinging scent. Then he pulled something from a belt pouch and flipped it open. He pushed a bunch of buttons and held it to his ear, waiting. After a moment, he began talking quietly.

Sonic craned his neck some more. The door the guy had come from stood wide open and there were a good a couple of paces between him and the door. He also sat there with his back turned towards Sonic, giving him a chance to get in there and zip out of sight before the guard even got to his feet. Sonic shrugged. "That works."

He skipped over to the spot right above the door, flung himself over the edge of the roof, slid down the building's beveled front, and swung into the tall opening.

Then he crashed into a stack of bulky stuff like a wrecking ball, toppling it over and landing on the ground with it in a heap. Sonic threw his arms in front of his already stinging face, but nothing else came.

…Aside from frickin' guard guy, of course. Somewhere in the corner of his eye, Sonic noticed him jump up, fumbling to get his phone back into his pocket.

Sonic clambered to his feet, eyes adjusting to the dim room. He was in a large hall filled with numerous tables that had chairs stacked on top (minus one now, anyway…). It looked like a cafeteria or restaurant of some sort. At the far end to his left a faint green glow pointed to an open doorway further inside. Good enough. Guard guy flicked on a torch.

Sonic evaded the light, slipping through the open doorway and into an even larger hall filled with all sorts of displays and constructs that were faintly illuminated by the outside lights. There was another exit marked with a green glow at the other end of the hall and a dim light that guided down a flight of stairs at the center. Not much time to take in the displays, though—guard's torch already bounced through the cafeteria. Sonic began weaving past the displays, scanning for anything vaguely shaped like a Star Post on his way, but nothing caught his eye. He emerged in the opposite hall before Guard had even passed the first doorway.

The guy's voice came from behind. It sounded as if he was trying really hard to sound commanding and collected—not that it made a difference. But hey, the guy could keep doing that. Didn't hurt if Sonic knew where he was currently stalking around.

The hall Sonic had entered was dimmer than the one before. Most light came through a wide, windowed door facing the inner yard. He could make out the outlines of several pedestal-supported displays around, but it wasn't enough to actually see what was in them without getting close. But then the Star Post wouldn't fit inside one of those anyway.

A circle of empty space at the center of the room drew him close. Above, a huge globe hung from the ceiling, illuminated by dimmed lamps set into the floor. It turned out to be display of _their_ globe, of course. Sonic couldn't help but pause to stare at it.

At first glance, everything looked familiar, but then it just looked _wrong_ … Sonic was sure he'd seen a map of the planet before at home, but even in the dim light he could tell that this one had a ton more detail than what he knew. He rounded it, staring up from below, then rounded it a second time, trying not to feel queasy. This was where he was now. He had to make sure his stay was short.

Guard guy had reached the doorway and Sonic reflexively ducked behind one of the panels, inwardly cursing. Good job wasting all that time ogling—now he had to check out the rest of the room while dodging the guy's light. Sonic slipped from display to display until he'd reached the far end of the room where he spotted an open double door leading to yet another hall. But he wasn't done in this one yet. Some exhibit about space seemed to be the kind of spot you'd find a Star Post at.

Guard guy approached, and Sonic waited for him to come close before speed-sneaking to the other end of the hall again. He wanted the guy to be as far from that double door as possible when he eventually passed through. No Star Post in sight, though. Yet.

Sonic paused in front of a semi-circular railing that had several differently sized spheres lined up on top. He didn't need to be a genius to realize that it was a display of the solar system. He counted.

Ten.

Ten was good. Ten meant Mobius had to be common knowledge around here and not some kind of conspiracy theory.

But what _did_ they know? And why was Mobius at the fourth spot and not in line with _Lum_, anyway? Sonic got to the first half of the display and gently turned the fourth of the spheres on its pointy mount. Its print didn't have a lot of detail, but Mobius' stretched-out main continent was clearly recognizable. He really wanted to know what that placard underneath said right now.

Behind him the torchlight grew dimmer, and Sonic turned to take a look, frowning. Guard guy stood inside the other doorway, shape sharply illuminated by the light he aimed into the other room. His occasional calls had turned into annoyed muttering along the way.

This wasn't where the guy was supposed to go. Sonic put one hand around the first planet of the row, then spun it, touching each of the rest along the way. The noise was enough to startle the guy, torch honing in on the spot Sonic just stood at. Sonic heard the guy's steps approach as he ducked behind another panel.

Sonic rounded the room again on silent feet then slipped into the other hall. It opened up to his left, filled with large panels, model buildings, and even a plane hanging from the ceiling, looking like a one-winged Tornado minus the red paint job. Through the tall windows came enough light to scan most of the rest of the displays from afar, and Sonic didn't need to check twice to recognize the shape at the hall's other end.

He jogged over, then reminded himself to pause a couple of steps in front of the Star Post's display. It stood on some kind of broad pedestal in front of a curved panel that showed all sorts of info as well as an artwork of the intersection the Post was apparently meant to visually add into (ignoring proportions). Sonic took a few careful steps closer, ready for the thing to take over his vision again, but nothing seemed to happen no matter how close he got. …Not that he was surprised.

For all he knew they'd unearthed the Star Post and put it here. Chances were it wasn't going to work normally anymore.

…Whatever 'working normally' was, anyway.

He let his gaze wander across the curved panel. The leftmost half showed a rough map, probably the city grounds, and a couple of grainy photos of people digging something up. In the map's center was a marked spot along with some of the usual foreign text. By its side, a large schematic showed a drawing of the Star Post above ground, and a maze of bars and struts below, reaching straight into the ground like a drill. They went down at least twenty times the height of the Post where a bunch of markers pointed to different parts of the construct. Next to them, in a mounted glass container of some sort, a couple of actual pieces of the Post's 'roots' were on display. Either those guys knew exactly what they were doing, or the Star Post definitely didn't work anymore.

At the right-most end of the display was another map, apparently showing part of the continent. Sonic recognized its roughly triangular shape from the large globe in the hall before, but this one had markers. An arrow pointed to a place on the continent's western coast, accompanied by another little drawing of the intersection. It gave him a rough idea where he'd ended up at.

There were more than a dozen other spots marked on the map, each with a small drawing by their side. A river, some tall trees, a gigantic waterfall, another city, a mountain— He paused.

Mountains.

That seemed like a good place to start. The person he'd seen in his vision had been in a cave after all. The closest spot in the mountains had the drawing of a distinctive, u-shaped crag by its side—definitely something he'd recognize when he got there. But first—

Sonic climbed on top of the pedestal, then wrapped his fingers around one of the struts of the Post's bottom cage. It gave way almost instantly, and he barely needed more than one finger to spin it.

Nothing happened.

Sonic watched the cage come to a halt again, deflating slightly. He _had_ been prepared to become disappointed, sort of, but, well…

The flashlight honed in on him and Sonic shielded his eyes, slowly facing the guard. The guy gaped at him, then inched closer, one hand raised in a calming gesture.

"Hey," Sonic said before the guy could decide on anything further. "Just checking out that Star Post over here. No need to freak out, I'll be going now." He hopped off the pedestal, ready to head for one of the doors.

Guard frowned, following Sonic's movement with his torch and the kind of expression that fought between confusion and the distinct feeling of 'crap, I have to do something'. Then his eyes became drawn to the windowed doors facing the inner yard. Sonic automatically looked the same way, spotting three figures hanging out at the center of one of the footbridges that crossed the pond covering about half of the yard outside.

The guard groaned. »Man, this gotta be the shittiest night ever.« He stomped towards the door with new-found focus, threw it open, then began marching towards the footbridge, midway stashing the torch and pulling out a nightstick instead.

Apparently, dealing with those guys was more important than an actual alien running around in your museum.

Sonic's feet carried him into the shade by the open doorway while something at the back of his mind tried to inform him that this was the moment he was supposed to take off, not linger around and give the guard a chance to change his mind. But it couldn't hurt knowing how this one guy was gonna deal with three others of his kind first.

The group on the bridge, one short-haired guy in a hoodie, a bald guy in an enormous vest, and a long-haired girl in some kind of leather jacket, seemed pretty unfazed. Each of them opened a can, raised them above their heads, and chinked them against each other. Then Vest saluted the approaching guard and took a sip. Guard held his stick low, walking steady now, and probably gave his best impression of somebody who had stuff under control. Whatever he called out to those three, though, they didn't seem to care. Hoodie-guy offered him a drink.

Guard ignored him and kept talking. »—Guys, I'm not gonna repeat myself. You can't stay here, so don't make stuff complicated. I'll let you out and we can forget about this.«

Hood gave him what looked like a ridiculous pout, withdrawing the drink. »Aww… come on. We're just going to check this place out for a while. Why don't you let us inside instead?«

»Yeaah,« the girl chimed in. »I wanna see the dinosaurs!«

Guard drew a strained breath through his nose, keeping his voice steady. »If you keep loitering on the premises, I'll have to call the police. You're trespassing.«

Hood lifted his finger as if to make an important announcement. »In that case,« he let the words linger for am moment. »We'll have to hurry. _Let's go!_«

He made for a jog, but guard stepped into his path. »Guys, I'm serious.« He tightened his grip on the stick.

Hood came to a halt again, slumping slightly. »Dude, she wants to see the dinosaurs. Don't be an ass.« It sounded unnecessarily dramatic. Maybe that wasn't the first drink they'd had.

Guard put one hand against the other's chest. »Listen—« he began. Then Vest stepped in and put a fist to his face. Sonic grimaced.

Guard dropped to the ground like a wet sack. The three exchanged confused glances, Vest still admiring his fist, then he burst out into laughter. Hood grinned and shrugged. He stepped across the guard and began jogging towards the door. The girl let out a cheer and followed, tugging the one in the vest behind her when she passed him.

Sonic ran a hand across his face and retreated a tad further into the hall. Apparently this was the moment he found out whether 'a bit of momentum' really was enough to deal with one of those guys. He stretched.

The three approached the hall, still snickering, but went quiet the moment they stepped through the doorway. They took in the room for a while, then Hood beckoned them to follow.

Sonic stepped onto the pathway, thumbing at the splayed out guard outside. "Y'know the guy's just doing his job, right?"

Hood stopped dead and his friends bumped into him from behind. »Uh?« He blinked, frozen for a moment.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Sonic was vaguely aware of the irony of a trespasser kicking out other trespassers. But hey, _he_ would've left if the guard asked him nicely.

"Well, let's see how this goes." Sonic rolled his shoulders and charged forward, leaping into a somersault then flying feet-first into the guy's chest where he kicked himself off and and landed back on the ground with a casual back-flip. Hood stumbled backwards, arms flailing and throwing his friends off balance, then he tumbled to the ground between them, even rolling over twice before coming to a halt. He squirmed, yapping for air and clutching his chest. The girl hurried to his side.

Sonic flinched. "Uh, guess you guys are more breakable than you look…"

»What the hell? You little freak!«

Sonic spun at the voice. He barely had time to tense his muscles before a kick came flying towards his chest. It hit him just below the ribs, lobbed him off the ground, and dropped him on his heels again before he could even begin flailing. He tripped backwards for a couple of steps then caught himself, rubbing his midriff. Dang, this was gonna be sore for a while.

Vest stared in disbelief. »What the hell!?« he repeated, then stalked after Sonic, ready for another kick. His moves were sluggish, missing Sonic by an arms length this time. How had the guy even managed to hit him before? Well, he had to immobilize him somehow. The guy stomped towards him, then seemed to try some sort of one-legged jump kick, drink splashing from the can he still had in his hand. His aim was decent, but Sonic could practically watch the kick coming in slow-motion. He stepped into it and shoved Vest's leg to the side, sending the guy into a clumsy twirl. Then Sonic hooked his foot into the one still on the ground and the guy sprawled unceremoniously to the floor. To his credit, he'd kept the can upright.

To his other credit, he didn't waste any time getting up on his feet again. Staggering him wasn't gonna be enough.

»Hey,« the girl cried. Everyone paused.

Guard had made it back into the building and had somehow managed to grab her from behind. She writhed for a moment, then gave up with a wince. »Oh, great…«

»That's it,« guard said, now standing between both guys. He put up his best glare from a slightly swollen face.

Vest loosened his impression of a combat stance and tried to exchange a look with his friends, side-eying Sonic. Hood currently made a groaning attempt at getting on all fours, while Girl decided to stomp her heel into the guard's boot. Guard didn't even flinch, shooting her a dubious glance. Safety shoes, obviously. Guard's gaze latched on Sonic for a moment before he seemed to remember his job again.

»Yo, guys. That's it,« he repeated. »You're gonna get picked up. Gather outside.« He nodded his head towards the door.

Vest snorted. »Pff. The police isn't gonna get here this fast anyway.« He began rounding the guard somewhat carefully and headed towards Hood still on the ground beside him.

Outside by the gate a soft flicker of blue and red reflected off the tall arcs of the inner yard. Two guys in what looked like uniform stood at the other side of the gate, gesturing, then one of them began to unlock it.

Vest paused midway helping up his still hunched-over friend. »Come on. Seriously?!« He stared at the ceiling for a moment.

Guard shrugged. »Tough luck. That one was here ahead of ya.« He cocked his head towards Sonic.

Hood groaned, still doubled over and palms propped against his own thighs. »What kind of asshole pet is that anyway?« he croaked.

»Not your problem,« guard said. »Now move.«

Guard watched until Hood and Vest began trudging for the door, bickering quietly, then he steered Girl into the same direction, craning his head to face Sonic again. He jutted his chin into the general direction of another door and mouthed a couple of words. »Yo. Get off. Now's your chance.«

Wait, what?

When Sonic didn't react, the guy's gaze became a tad more intense, jumping between Sonic and the doorway to the hall he'd initially come from. Sonic grinned.

"Gotcha," he mouthed back, saluting the guy while turning to head for the doorway. He felt the guard's eyes on him for a moment longer, but kept walking until the hall quieted and all of them had passed the door to the inner yard. Sonic paused, turning around again to see a beginning discussion between the figures outside.

That had gone… weird.

All the encounters he'd had so far had felt as if they'd revolved entirely around _him_. But this time he'd mostly felt like just another participant… It was probably simply because those guys had been too busy with themselves rather than dealing with the fact that they were actually making 'first contact', but it was still odd… Guard even seemed like the kind of guy patient enough to reason with. If he now also knew something about that Star Post…

Sonic took a breath, turning on his heels. He passed by the dismantled Star Post again, giving the map another once-over, then back-tracked his way through the museum and scaled the roof. He settled down against a warm air-duct roughly above where the discussion went on, and began his wait until the guy was alone again.


	6. Chapter 6: Access Denied

_Man! You'd think with what's currently going on in the world, there'd be plenty of time writing and uploading stuff. Guess it's just the opposite... :|._

_Thanks everyone for reading up to this point :). _

* * *

**Chapter 6: Access Denied**

Sonic lay down on a weather-worn rock protruding from a grassy incline. The blue sky above him was spotted with puffy clouds, lazily pushed along by a soft autumnal breeze.

It turned out that a 'moderately warm air duct' was exactly what he'd needed to fall asleep on the spot the past night. When he'd woken up again, the inner yard of the museum was already filled with people, blaring kids included. No guard guy in sight, obviously, so he'd decided to check out the mountains instead and headed straight for the snowy-white tips that rose from behind the hills surrounding the city. If for some reason he wasn't back on Mobius by night, there'd still be plenty enough time to catch up with the museum guy again.

By now though half the day had passed, and he hadn't found even so much as a clue to where the stupid Post could've been. He'd started by going in circles, gradually checking the whole area and looking for some kind of chasm. But while 'running around real fast' was totally the solution to his problem for a change, running around on a basically empty stomach was also more exhausting than he cared to admit. And he wasn't even halfway through with the area.

He wasn't exactly _starving_, of course—there were berries and nuts and all the other green stuff you'd find in the outdoors. But by now he was extra-careful not to ruin his stomach again, and that left him with only tiny portions of whatever he found until he knew whether it affected him or not.

…And that stupid bruise he got the other night was bugging him whenever he took a moment to rest up. Not exactly top conditions for a long-going search.

But maybe he wouldn't have to worry about that for much longer. The Star Post had to be somewhere around here, and he knew he had more than enough left in him to make it there. Then he just had to make the thing take him home.

Easy peasy…

Sonic sighed then hopped to his feet again with a grunt. He looked down onto a vast landscape of grassy hills, forests and lakes, occasionally broken up by a lonely road or a river gleaming in the sun's rays that made it through the clouds. He'd made it pretty high up already, but he was still way beneath the snow line. Hopefully the crag in question wanted to stay out of the cold as much as he did.

He stretched a bit, then continued along the incline, trying to keep track of the places he'd checked before and pulling his circle around the mountain a little tighter each time he passed a landmark. He was sure he'd find the thing eventually. If it didn't work out he'd just check out all the other spots he'd memorized from the museum's map.

Still, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that the one he was heading for was the only shot he had. The weather was probably about to get less friendly, and he really had no idea how to go on about communicating with the local aliens. He knew he could figure these things out if he needed to—worrying hadn't ever helped anyone after all—but still…

There was movement in the corner of his eye, and Sonic slid to a jog, scanning the area. Below, a mountain road widened into a small rest stop sticking out from the mountainside, and a family of three had picked the spot for a rest. It was kinda idyllic, with a handful of trees standing at its edges, casting their shade without obscuring the wide view into the valley.

The mom and her daughter headed towards a crammed car, arms full with things picked up from a single wooden picnic table where a man, probably the father, loomed over a spread-out map. He absently picked a ring-shaped pastry from a box that stood at the map's side and took a bite.

Sonic's foot slipped on a stretch of rubble and he instantly ducked behind a boulder, realizing he'd unconsciously inched closer. The guy down there had not less than two of the things Sonic could've used hours ago. Food, and a frickin' _map_. Something told him though, that going down there and asking nicely wasn't going to get him any further.

…Then again, there was always the 'swing brooms first, ask questions later' way of doing stuff.

Sonic stepped out from behind the boulder, skidded down the incline, somersaulted across the narrow road, then slid to a halt on the bench opposite of the man who, the moment he looked up, jumped from his seat as if spikes had grown from it. He stumbled backwards and barely avoided falling across the bench by performing a clumsy dance, still holding the half-eaten pastry between his fingers when he regained his balance.

The smaller one of his companions turned around from the car's door. »Dad, ha—?«

Sonic lifted a finger, already a quip on his lips, but then decided it was useless and simply grabbed the map and one of the ring-things from the box. He zipped down the embankment and high onto the wide branch of a tree where he put the map across his lap and inspected the (almost) unscathed pastry in his fingers. It seemed to have been made of a tan dough and had a dark topping that looked a whole lot like chocolate. Plus, it was the shape of a ring. Nothing could go wrong.

Sonic bit into the pastry and his mouth almost shriveled from the onslaught of flavor. For a moment, he could only uselessly succumb to his senses. Everything was too sweet, too soft, too frickin' _chocolate_. Then he devoured the thing with a speed that would've made his own feet jealous.

He was still licking his sticky fingers when he heard a bunch of noises from below. At the foot of the tree the one Sonic had decided to be the father had begun smacking his lips in intervals, occasionally throwing a 'Hey' into the mix. It looked like he was trying to lure him to the ground like you would do with a pet, and he was looking ridiculous at it. The only thing that kept Sonic from simply ignoring the man was the still half-filled pastry box he kept shaking in Sonic's general direction.

Sonic swallowed.

He tore his eyes away from the sweets and unfurled the map, scanning it for landmarks. There'd been a couple of unique spots on his way, and so far he was pretty sure he'd be able to point them out even on a foreign map like this.

From the corner of his eye he noticed the man deflate, now looking up at him with a frown. A moment later his daughter came jogging down the embankment, red locks bouncing, and joined him beneath the tree.

»Whoa!« She looked up, eyes bulging, then turned to look at her father. »What's that?«

The man shook his head. »Good question. Next question! We need to get our map back.« He put the box in her hands, rolled up his sleeves, and made for the lowest branch.

His daughter put the box on the ground and hurried past him. »I'll get it!« she said, already pulling herself up the lowest branch.

»Whoa, hold up.« He grabbed her by the waist and set her down again. »It's bad enough you want to climb that high up, but—« he seemed to struggle a bit. »What if it attacks you?«

She looked up, doubtful, then eyed her father suspiciously. »What if it attacks _you_?«

»Well, I'm bigger,« he said.

»What if it runs away because you're bigger?« She crossed her arms.

»I—« He paused, humming in thought and scanning the tree once more. »Well, I might be able to catch it on the ground if it tries to get away…« He nodded slowly, facing his daughter again. »You can climb. But be careful, alright? Start with the two branches over there.« He pointed.

Sonic had watched from the corner of his eye while trying to fold the map to a more manageable size and at the same time trying not to get too distracted. He could've gotten a bit farther away from them in the first place, obviously, but now he didn't want to stir them up a second time. He'd already narrowed down his current position to a spot at the map's lower left corner, anyway, and all he had to do now was align it with the places he'd spotted on the way up here and point out his destination.

…Unfortunately, nothing else on the map looked particularly familiar, let alone like any of the drawings he'd seen at the museum. If he wanted to get a proper sense of direction, he had to look at the map as a whole, not small portions of it. No wonder the guy down there had it on a table—the frickin' thing was the size of a tent! Sonic repositioned and unfolded the map a bit further, trying to use his branch and the trunk to lay it down and have some sort of stand. But the edges of the map folded away from him before he could get a good look at any of the upper areas. Sonic groaned.

His eyes met with the girl that had already managed to scale a branch on his level opposite of the trunk. She began to inch closer on all fours.

Sonic carefully drew in the map, getting ready to retreat and find another spot. At this rate it was going to take ten times as long to make them understand he was just borrowing the thing for a moment, than to just… _borrow_ it for a moment.

The girl wrapped her arms around the trunk, brows furrowed in concentration. Her eyes briefly met Sonic's again, then she extended a leg trying to reach his branch. The father tensing up was almost palpable.

»Guys, what's taking so long?« The voice belonged to the probably-mom coming down the embankment. She adjusted a pair of thin-rimmed glasses as her eyes were drawn to the tip of the tree. »What the—_Carrie!_«

The girl craned her neck, legs spread between the two branches and arms still wrapped around the trunk. She opened her mouth for a reply, then her fingers lost their grip, tearing pieces of bark with them as her upper body veered away from the trunk and her eyes went wide.

The world ran in slow-motion. For a moment, the girl hung suspended between the two branches, and the two adults below stood frozen in mid-scream. Sonic let go of the map and leaped forward, closing his fingers around her still outstretched forearm. He had just enough sense to get down and wrap his legs around the branch, then gravity took hold and his face and chest smacked into the wood, her entire weight tearing into his arm and shoulder. She looked up at him with wide eyes, gasping as she tried to claw her fingers around his arm and eventually clinging to him with both her hands. She struggled to reach one of the branches with her dangling legs, but only came as close as the tip of her shoe.

"Hey, wanna hold still for a moment?" Sonic said through gritted teeth. His legs and his free arm tightened around the branch and the muscles in his shoulder burned. She wasn't as heavy as he'd expected, but that still didn't mean he made for a good counter-weight. If he dropped her now, she'd probably come out alright, but she was still at least twice her height above ground.

Her father spread his arms below his dangling daughter. »I'm here. I'll catch you.«

She took a tentative glance downwards then back at Sonic and swallowed. »Okay.«

The man searched Sonic's eyes and gave him and intense look. It was the second intentional attempt at communication Sonic had had in over a week that actually seemed to work. He nodded.

When the guy had gotten into position, Sonic loosened his grip and the girl dropped, landing with a shriek in her father's arms and on her feet. She spun around to hug him tightly, then let go again to rush into the arms of her mother.

»What were you thinking?« the mother said. Sonic wasn't sure whether she was addressing the dad or their daughter.

Sonic sat up again, massaging his aching shoulder. That was another bruise he could've done without, but maybe it would at least earn him an uninterrupted look into the map. He glanced downwards to the halfway folded heap on the ground, then noticed the father's eyes on him.

He could practically see the guy's thoughts play out on his forehead.

They both lunged for the fallen map at the same time.

Sonic landed right beside it, took a roll to dampen his fall and midway grabbed the map by one of it's stacked ends. When he got to his feet, Dad had grabbed the other end of the map and gave it a tug—determined, but careful not to break it. Sonic held tight, trying his best not to glare but probably failed miserably.

»Oh, come _on_.« A tug. »Believe me, I'm glad you caught my kid, but I really don't have time for this right now—« Dad tugged again, then sighed and let his arm drop, map still in a firm grip. He stared into the sky for a moment.

Something tackled into Sonic, instantly clamping on to him. The girl had jogged over and decided to pull him into a hug. A set of deeply ingrained 'being glomped' and 'no-I-don't-want-to-frickin'-suffocate'-reflexes from that one hedgehog girl that had followed him through most of his 9th school year threatened to surface, but their daughter just calmly kneeled there, arms around his neck and rubbing her cheek into his. She'd even managed to avoid his quills.

When that brief moment of almost-panic passed, Sonic realized he'd never been more aware of feeling greasy than at exactly this point in his life. He was stunned enough to let the map slip from his fingers.

He grimaced, trying to figure out how to gently remove her arms from his body. "Don't—ugh."

Her mom came to his rescue, pulling the quietly protesting girl to her feet.

»—I don't think he's dangerous, either,« the mom said. »But we need to be careful before we know more, okay?«

The kid nodded, not looking particularly fazed when Sonic smoothed down his cheek fur again. He felt as if he'd fallen into a tank of cream or something. Why was water so lousy at actually getting you clean? It wasn't that he didn't _try_, but, _man_. At this point he was doubly glad he'd held on to those pants. Sonic suppressed a shudder.

Meanwhile, the other three were having a discussion that apparently concluded in Dad giving the map to his daughter (frown included). She stepped in front of Sonic and held the now folded map out with both hands.

»Thanks for catching me,« she said. »But, uh, we need it back, so don't run off. Please?« She looked kinda hopeful after that, chewing her lip. Both parents eyed him carefully.

Also, Mom had gone and picked up the pastry box. Dang.

Sonic felt like saying something, but any attempt at picking up their tone was already enough of a gamble, they probably wouldn't have much luck picking up his either. He settled for a nod (which at least had worked before) and gently took the map from the girl's still outstretched hands.

She retreated and Sonic simply nodded again before heading back to the parking lot and the table. If he put the map onto the dirt now, Dad would probably have a stroke or something. He earned a collective startle the moment he got into motion, but they seemed to follow calmly enough after that.

Sonic got back to the table and spread out that frickin' bedsheet of a map, trying to get a sense of location again. Somewhere behind his back he sensed the three emerge from the embankment. If he knew at least a few basic phrases, all of this would've been so stupidly easy. But body language (and common sense) simply weren't enough to explain a concept like 'borrowing'.

…Then again, his body language when he snatched the map in the first place, had probably pretty clearly told the opposite…

The two adults quietly started arguing.

The daughter appeared by his side, drawing his attention with the open pastry box in her hands. She met his eyes, then placed it on the table and crouched down at one of its bench-less ends, propping her chin onto her forearms.

Sonic licked his lips. He itched to pick out one of the two remaining rings, but even after only one of those, he could already feel himself craving for something salty to balance it out.

Licking stones really, _really_ didn't cut it.

The girl extended an arm and picked one of the rings, barely keeping her eyes off of him. »You can have the last one.« She said and nodded towards the box.

Sonic swallowed. Did it matter? One heap of sugar more or less? It was food either way. He picked the last ring and took a bite, this time prepared for the taste. He tried his best to take it slow.

She seemed satisfied, quietly watching him as he scanned the map. Now that Sonic saw the thing in its entirety, it was clear why he couldn't figure out where he was before. He'd tried to match the places from his memory to the wrong scale. Knowing that, it was easy to find the rest stop along one of the roads. He gave the girl a quick glance to get her attention, then pointed to a spot on the map just to make sure.

"We're here, right?" he said, gesturing at the rest stop.

She shoved the box aside and got up to lean across the table. After a moment of consideration she hummed and nodded. »Yes,« she said.

»Yes,« he repeated. It seemed like a good word to remember.

»Wow, that's cool.« The girl bounced upright. »Can you say my name? I'm Carrie.« She looked at him, smiling, but also kind of expectant. What was that about now? Sonic played the words back and forth in his head, trying to make out a pattern that was more than just 'yup, that's a language'. But nothing made any more sense than before. He shrugged. "Guess it doesn't just work that way, huh?"

She frowned, but it looked as if she had her mind set on something.

Sonic chose the momentary silence to get another look at the map. There had to be at least _something_ that resembled the place he was looking for. He tried to retrace his path around the mountain to get a better sense of the area, but reached the edge of the map before recognizing anything useful. A couple of tiny arrows pointed outwards, and he followed them flipping the map on its back. On this side, in one of the map's corners, a smaller, much less detailed overview told him he only had one piece of many. Sonic groaned.

The girl followed his gaze and her face lit up again. »Do you need those? They're in the car. I can get them.« She looked at him somewhat hopefully, then pointed a little more hopefully at the pieces of the map overview.

Sonic stared for a moment as he put the pieces together.

"Uh, yeah, that'd be—_yes!_" He nodded.

She grinned and hurried over to the still open car where she flopped across the driver seat and began rummaging in some sort of compartment.

Her father came rushing past. »Carrie! What are you doing? Don't give it more stuff, you know we don't have all day!«

A muffled reply came from inside.

The mother had followed them for a few steps, first looking concerned then gradually amused. Midway though she appeared to change her mind and headed towards Sonic instead, studying him for a moment with one elbow set into her palm and her thumb tapping her lips. Sonic straightened a bit, still standing on top of the bench. He was at about eye-level this way.

She cocked her head, face somewhere stuck between a frown and a smile. »You clearly get what we're doing here, hm?« It didn't seem as if she expected an answer. »But you're not speaking English, are you…?« She began pacing, developing the telltale signs of a person thinking aloud—about him, no doubt.

Strange, how being in a foreign Zone and not speaking the language wasn't even half as frustrating as not knowing what _those guys_ were talking about. For all he cared, it was about as likely for her right now to wonder whether they had another bag of chips in the car or whether they should deliver him to some kind of alien detention department.

…It was still one heck of a lot of a better reaction than trying to tie him to a bollard, though—above water of all places.

Shame he probably would have to choose between spending more time with them, and finally reaching the one thing that would give him another chance at getting home.

The girl emerged from the car, triumphantly holding a red folder into the air.

»Oh, nonono, that one stays here.«

She skipped out of her father's reach and hurried back to the table. »He's only _looking_,« she cried. The man threw his hands into the air in a universal display of parental helplessness.

Sonic hesitated as she put the case down in front of him. Even though her mother appeared to be somewhat curious about him, he had a strong feeling those three were actually in a hurry for something. If this was Mobius, he'd have already sent them on their way and looked for someone else to give him directions—no one had to go out of their way just to save him some time with something he knew he'd eventually manage on his own. But they seemed to be in for it now. If he left now, he'd have wasted their time _and_ would've learned nothing.

The father joined them at the table, arms tightly crossed. »So is _he_ looking at it yet?« He gave his daughter a stern look, but seemed to fail at being genuinely angry.

Her mother scoffed. »Don't make such a fuss. Ten minutes more or less won't make much of a difference.«

»They will if we want to check-in on time.«

She shrugged. »You were the one who didn't want to borrow Brian's GPS.«

The girl sat down on the bench across from Sonic and propped her head on her elbows again. Her father seemed to be torn between curiosity and impatience, and her mother observed Sonic with an almost analytical calm. She shared a smile with her daughter.

Sonic took the case and began picking through the stack of folded maps. There wasn't much he could do other than try and match them with the stuff he remembered. He picked one that connected to the one on the table and spread it out on top. The girl rose from her seat and stretched out the map's edges on her side, then began studying it with an air of knowledge.

Mom closed in on her husband. »I wonder what he's looking for,« she asked in a low voice.

»Well,« the man grumbled, arms still crossed tightly. »The map's upside down, so whatever it is, it's gonna take a while.«

She arched both eyebrows. »You're not the least bit curious? I can't believe something like this even exists,« she whispered.

His lips formed a line. »I _am_. It's just—« He sighed through his nose. »…I went and set her up for a skiing course at 2pm, and it's gonna become a really close call if we don't keep going.«

The woman's eyes grew wide. »What? Why didn't you tell me before?«

»Surprise?« He shrugged.

She shook her head, vaguely gesturing towards the table. »Don't worry. If something like this would've happened to me as a kid, I would've forgotten about skiing for the next three months.«

»True.« He chuckled. »But by now I'm only waiting for her to ask us if she can keep him or something.«

They were quiet for another while, then the woman seemed to be struck by something. »Didn't we bring a camera?«

»Huh, right.« He snapped his fingers. »Damn, it's in the trunk!« The man turned and strode towards the car, then paused midway when his daughter called out.

»I think he got it!«

He returned to the table, leaning over it with his hands behind his lower back.

Sonic had overlapped two maps to complete a path from one of the landmarks he remembered to a spot that came closest to the shape he'd seen at the museum. The man seemed amused, turning towards his daughter. »If you say so. Those two maps don't match anything near here.«

»I think he's smarter than that.« The girl crossed her arms much like her father had before. Then she added: »Can we take him there?« She pointed to the 'u'.

»No.«

That reply came a little fast.

»Awww, come _on_!«

»No,« he repeated a little more thoughtfully. »This is really far out and we can't afford another detour.«

»Guys,« mom's voice caught their collective attention. She'd left the table and now had one of those brick-for-cameras in her hands, taking a picture the moment everyone looked up.

Welp, that had to happen eventually.

»Your father's right,« she said, joining them at the table again and placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

The girl pouted, eyes searching the map, but then nodded. Her parents exchanged a look.

Sonic scanned the map one last time, then attempted to fold the gigantic sheet back into pocket size. The man immediately snatched the thing from his hands.

"Guess I'll be going then." Sonic thumbed over his shoulder. "Thanks, guys." He was about to hop off but the girl jumped to her feet. She looked ready to climb the table, then hesitated, trying hard not to pout. Sonic paused.

The last time Sonic had seen that look was when he'd tried to talk Miles out of another trip to Bingo Highway. The kid had gotten sick all over Sonic's shoes the first time they were there, and Sonic reeally hadn't been in for a sequel. In the end he'd given in and made a bet, after which Miles had to learn and cook chili dogs for the next five weeks. Sonic could never put together how someone who flew loop-de-loops in a plane on a daily basis could be so queasy.

For some reason 'the look' worked pretty well on their faces, too.

It didn't have to remind him of _chili dogs_ of all things though.

Sonic absently scratched the fur behind his ear. Another hug was positively out of the question, but maybe… He extended his hand across the table.

"That's how it works, right?" he said with half-shrug.

She gave the offered hand an odd look, then took it as if it could disappear any second. She shook it a couple of times with a determined look on her face. Sonic fought with a grin.

»Goodbye,« she said when the shaking was done.

»…Goodbye,« he repeated, and her lips curled into a smile.

Sonic gave a two-fingered salute, then took off towards higher ground without looking back.

#

He reached the edge of a steep, rugged crag forming an arc around a patch of lush grassland below, where a flock of greyish-white, scraggly-looking animals hung out in the afternoon sun. Around the upper edge of the crag, a closed line of trees marked the beginning of an uphill forest that almost seemed to radiate from within whenever the clouds gave way to a ray of sunlight.

Sonic took in a deep breath of crisp mountain air, taking in the view. He'd expected to discover a cave up here, but now that he saw the place it seemed like a real waste to not put the Star Post into a spot where it could overlook everything. From his vantage point though, he neither saw a cave entrance, nor a Star Post out in the open.

Sonic began rounding the crag, checking for a spot to climb down without making a major detour.

Now that he thought about it: how lucky was he anyway to have ended up on a planet with breathable air and decent gravity? That could've gone a lot worse.

Then again, what would've been the point of putting a Star Post in a spot that meant instant death on arrival? He was setting the bar way too low here. All in all he could've just as well ended up in Gigan Rocks or Windy Valley. But nope. _Aliens_.

The world went black.

A cold feeling crept up his neck and his inner eye lit up with a wide view of the area. He floated, looking down on an arched crag bathed in white moonlight. The Star Post stood near the crag's edge in a small clearing overlooking the valley, tiny spots of light from a group of fireflies dancing around it.

A soft, electrical hum hung in the air as Sonic's brain caught up with what had happened.

_He was there_.

The Star Post couldn't be more than a couple of steps away.

He'd found the damned thing. And it still _worked_.

Now he had to make the most of it.

At the corners of his vision the familiar overlay of symbols and controls appeared. There was a gauge to his right, made up of green segments, a choppily scrolling text running bottom to top to his left, and a—red writing flashing in the center of the image?

Everything broke apart as if he suddenly had bad reception.

Sonic's stomach lurched and he blinked his eyes back into the daylight, swallowing down the latent nausea that he hadn't expected to feel again. When he straightened, he looked at a wall of trees and scrubs that he either hadn't properly noticed before or he'd somehow approached while he was out. The Star Post had to be behind there. No way he'd miss the thing gearing up now. Sonic broke his way through the foliage.

The Star Post stood in the dim of a now overgrown clearing, entangled with veins and roots, bright paint blistering wherever they grew. The cage at the bottom had a mass of twigs and tendrils stuck through its bars, rendering the thing unmovable even if it wanted to. Sonic had no idea whether that vision thing was any indicator for the Post gearing up anytime soon (in the end, it hadn't helped the one on the island, and he couldn't remember seeing any vision from the one on Mobius, anyway), but obviously nothing was ever going to happen if he left it overgrown like that.

Sonic got to work, pulling out branches and tearing off tendrils from the bars and out of the gaps below. More paint came loose and revealed seemingly untouched metal underneath. Whatever those things were made of, it was made to last.

He pulled out one last tilted root, ignoring the fact that the Star Post's cage hadn't even so much as budged since he'd started clearing it out—but there was probably just something still stuck in there that he hadn't gotten out yet. He threw the loose root aside then got into a crouch to inspect it from up close.

_The cage spun._

It was a sudden, wild burst of motion, spraying Sonic with bits of wood and debris from every gap of the strange mechanism at the bottom.

He dropped to his behind, blinking and flailing about, then scrambled to his feet again, heart racing with anticipation. This was it! Sonic stared up at the sphere where those portals apparently opened up around and banished all thoughts that even remotely connected to _'island'_ to the very back of his mind.

The spinning stopped as suddenly as it started.

"What?" Sonic stared at the cage. "_No!_" He kicked it with his toes, gentle at first, then a bit more firmly. "You're not supposed to stop now!" He grabbed one of the struts, pushing and pulling both ways in an attempt to get the thing moving again. But it only budged the tiniest bit, as if the mechanism was now completely cleared out of even the last bit of dirt that could've interfered, but someone had put a bar into it to block it—just like with the one on the island.

"Oh, come _on_." Sonic threw his hands in the air. "Can't you stupid thing be a bit more clear about what you want from me?" He paced a couple of steps, feeling his fists clench in frustration, then he kicked a random stone through the foliage and far across the vale.

Somewhere in the distance an animal bleated.

Sonic slumped down against one of the trees, bumping the back of his head against its trunk. He had no idea what he'd expected to happen today, but, _Chaos_, the thing gearing up then instantly stopping again was even worse than it not doing anything at all. For all he knew the most these things had done in the past centuries was sparkle in the sun. So seeing fricking _visions_ around them should really mean to a lot more than just… slightly less nothing…

Sonic groaned, dragging himself to his feet again and giving the Star Post another once-over. Had he really never heard anything about people seeing stuff near these things? All he came up with were people visiting old Echidna temples and ruins back in the day, hoping for some sort of 'divine afflatus' or something (man, he'd actually remembered the word). Maybe this was the kind of stuff they'd seen back then—only that it didn't exactly feel 'divine'. It was more like some kind of virtual reality game minus the glasses.

…Wait a sec.

Would that mean Star Posts were actually computers of some sort? _That_ would make a lot more sense. There wasn't anything magical or divine about them—the Echidnas were supposed to be super-advanced after all—it was tech! …Only tech that had never exactly _looked_ particularly advanced.

(There were also bunch of not-so-nice ideas about the latter. But they were about stuff that happened like four centuries ago and Sonic had always enjoyed the resulting stories about magical megalomaniac Floating Island bad guys more than the actual history they were involved in…)

Man, where was Miles when he needed him?

The kid would've probably figured everything out days ago. Seeing those visions had already felt like a game back on the island. But Sonic had been so focused on everything being kind of 'mystical', that he just hadn't considered anything else before. The question was: could he use that info somehow?

Sonic closed his eyes and tried to recall the things he'd seen. In its vision, the island had looked a lot more barren, while this place had looked a lot more… magical? And for some reason he'd seen it at night even though it was daytime right now. It seemed safe to say that those images didn't exactly show the real thing. It looked more as if they showed the place at another point in time—or maybe just the way someone had wanted them to be seen.

Then there were those symbols and gauges and all the other stuff he couldn't decipher. He had no idea what the letters meant, but he'd seen them before on all kinds of Echidna stuff. It was annoying to know that he now had yet another language he'd _really_ like to understand. On the fat chance he ever got home, he was gonna check through all the history books he could find.

Sonic opened his eyes again with a huff. He'd found a Star Post, and it seemed to be still intact. Two days ago he thought it was all he needed to know, but now it seemed as if he'd learned absolutely nothing. Some reassessment was in order.

He knew this wasn't the only shot he had. According to the museum's map there were at least two dozen other Star Posts on this part of the continent alone. Also, with the maps he'd studied today, he now had a good enough grasp of his current surroundings that he knew of at least two other spots potentially close to a cave he could head off to without checking in with the museum again. Trying to find walrus-guy was probably still his best course of action—aside from getting lucky (or, finally figuring out what the deal with those visions was…). Anything else seemed to involve getting in touch with more of the people from around here, and while he now knew that they were a bit more fragile than most Mobians he knew, he now also knew that they did pack a kick. He was gonna leave any alien encounters up to chance for a bit longer.

In any case, he wasn't going to stick around and wait for something to happen. The weather was nice up here right now, but if the day's air was crisp, the nights would become downright chilly. If he needed to check out this Star Post again, he could get back here whenever he wanted.

…At least that was what he told himself.

Now the only thing he had to decide was whether to head further north, or more towards the south-east. But if this planet was anything like Mobius, he'd rather check out the north first before it actually became any colder.

Sonic idly rubbed the bruise he'd received the other night, then took off along the edge of the crag.


	7. Chapter 7: Crashing in the Rain

**Chapter 7: Crashing in the Rain**

It was raining.

Nah, 'raining' was describing his situation too generously. It was _pouring_. He didn't care on which planet he was; there existed exactly one acceptable situation for water coming from above, and it was called 'being inside a shower'. All rain did was manage to intensify his feeling of being a sticky, greasy hobo. How was water so useful and so _useless_ at the same time? If he left his pants now, they probably managed to stand on their own…

Sonic had spent all day heading pretty much straight north (to the best he could tell anyway), running through a just about endless region of mountains, forests, and valleys only rarely broken up by a road or river. Sunlight and crisp air had turned the weather on his way into a refreshing mix, but when the rain had come, he got off his track and to lower ground again. Now he settled on the broad branch of a tree, just high enough to be away from the soaked ground, and low enough to have as thick of a canopy above him as possible. Unfortunately, it still wasn't enough to keep the odd thick drop from coming through. Sonic sighed.

Yup, this was gonna be an awesome night.

He had enough sense of distance to know that the Star Post was still about halfway to go from where he was at the moment. If the weather had kept, he probably would've made the rest of the way till nightfall. He also knew that the Star Post had to be on yet another mountain somewhere. But after spending all day running through a frickin' mountain _range_ of all things, the idea of trying to find one particular mountain within it hadn't exactly put him in a hurry…

On a road a little ways up and behind the trees the lights of a vehicle passed by. Sonic watched their trail like he'd done with the handful of other cars that had come through before—there wasn't exactly anything else happening around here. Moments later the lights disappeared only to briefly flare up again. They seemed to jitter down through the trees, then stopped abruptly with a solid _thunk_.

Sonic flinched. The noise had been loud enough to be heard even over the rain's static. If the car had gone down a proper path over there, it definitely hadn't _halted_ the way it was supposed to.

He pulled a dripping branch aside and peered into the woods. One of the car's headlights was still on and shone roughly towards him, making most of the vehicle indiscernible in the dark of the night. He pricked his ears, expecting to hear someone step out at any moment, but nothing happened. There hadn't even been another car passing by on the road in the meantime, but that probably didn't mean much—only that he now apparently wouldn't just have to sit through a needlessly wet night, but also a needlessly busy one with people coming in to help that crashed person (or persons…) over there. No way was he going to look for another spot now. Sonic let the branch slip from his fingers and sat back again, drawing his legs further in.

It was still quiet.

…And it started nagging at him.

Unless that car or person had a means to call for help, this spot was not even remotely frequented enough for anyone to show up anytime soon… The least he could do was check whether it really had been a crash.

Sonic sighed and got to his feet. He dropped onto a lower branch, still trying to stay above ground while skipping his way over and into a tall tree that the car had halted beneath.

He didn't need to get much closer to see that this trip hadn't gone as planned.

There was a roughed-up trail leading from the road towards the trunk of the tree Sonic currently perched in. It looked as if the car had first brushed something with its right front, then skidded sideways into said trunk, impacting at about the spot the driver usually sat. All in all, the damage didn't look too serious—apparently, whoever was in there had at least managed to slow the car somewhat—but he still had no idea how fragile those guys really were…

Sonic grimaced, crouching low on his branch to get a better look through the windshield.

The inside of the car was dark against the glare of the remaining headlight. After a moment though he could make out a faint glow from what had to be the instruments, and then the vague shape of a person who was slumped against the slightly bent-in driver's door became distinguishable—an unconscious person, apparently. Or they would've probably freaked out by now.

There didn't seem to be anyone else in there. Also, the car must've gone out at some point—considering the noise those things usually made around here.

Sonic sat up straight on his branch and took a breath, absently letting his ears fill with the sounds of single, heavy raindrops drumming onto the car's metal roof. For a moment he felt as if he was the only vaguely healthy person in a thousand mile radius.

…How did he always manage to get himself into these situations?

It had never been a question whether he'd go down there and see if he could help. The question had always been: _when?_.

Admittedly, it had also crossed his mind that, in case someone else came for help and happened to spot him on his tree in the process, he didn't want to be in a situation of becoming overwhelmed in the middle of the night, all sluggish and sleepy. If he could increase the chances of whoever was in there getting away on their own before that, all the better.

Sonic rolled his neck, then slipped down onto the damp, leaf-covered ground and quietly approached the passenger door. His hand instinctively reached for the handle, fingers wringing around it for a moment. Then he pulled the door open.

He reflexively hopped out of the way when a bottle and a bunch of packs and cans came falling towards his feet. Some lamp had lit up, too, revealing the car's interior. A bag of groceries had toppled over and thrown its contents all across the passenger seat, into the legroom, and even into the lap of the woman in the seat across. She sat there, as motionless as before, and with her head resting against the cracked but still holding window. She hadn't even so much as hitched a breath since he'd opened the door.

…She wasn't dead, was she?

Nah, they couldn't possibly be _this_ fragile. There wasn't even any blood.

Sonic licked his lips.

He'd be way out of his depth if she was dead now.

…Of course, he'd also be way out of his depth if she wasn't. The entirety of his Mobian first aid knowledge was probably completely useless around here. And if he went up to the road to try and get the attention of anyone passing by, they'd probably panic and crash their car right next to hers the moment they saw him.

Her chest moved.

It was faint, but it was steady.

Sonic released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

She was only unconscious.

He could figure out how to deal with that.

Sonic set his foot into the frame of the open door then hesitated, gaze latching on to the stuff that had spilled out of the car before. He had no idea what he was looking at _exactly_, but it seemed impossible that there wasn't any food among all those packs and cans. It couldn't hurt to pick through the stuff for something edible first. Considering how long she'd been sitting there already, she probably didn't need help right away.

Also, she was probably going to wake up by herself all fine any moment now.

…Those pale sticks _did_ look like dried noodles, didn't they?

Sonic groaned, rubbing his face. Being low on food was messing with his head.

If this was Mobius, he'd've already taken her to half a dozen hospitals and treated whatever wounds _twice_ on the way—never mind the species. He had to at least make sure she was alright… _Then_ he could take half her stuff and leave.

Well.

Sonic nodded to himself then picked up the stuff that had fallen towards his feet and placed it back inside on top of the seat. Then he climbed into the car's legroom and shut the door behind him, wincing from the noise and sudden darkness. He poised for a moment, hearing only the dulled out prattling of the rain outside and the occasional thud of a heavy drop hitting the car's roof.

Nothing happened. She was still out.

He fumbled for a switch to get the lights back on, wincing again when he finally found it. The woman hadn't moved. She looked almost relaxed in her pose—blonde hair still tied together at the back of her head, and her blue-ish gray hoodie only slightly askew. She also looked somewhat young to him, but since so far Sonic could only safely discern kids from… not kids, that revelation probably didn't amount to much.

Sonic clambered on top of the center console and squatted down beside her. He poked her shoulder.

"Hey."

Nothing.

Poking _could_ be a perfectly capable and professional means to get people conscious again.

But not this time, apparently.

Considering she'd be waking up coming face-to-face with him, it was probably also better that way.

He shook his head. Nope. For all he knew it wasn't a good sign if she wasn't waking up easily. He had to get a closer look.

Sonic carefully put one foot in the space between her legs, settling in a bit closer. He reached out to lightly nudge her face then caught himself running his fingers along her cheek and jaw for much longer than what was necessary for a simple wake-up-call. But that skin was a lot more delicate and a lot… _nicer_ than he'd expected. He never thought he'd ever think of bald skin as 'nice' of all things (instead of, that ugly one-week bald spot you got on your shin from stumbling too close to a field of rubble). He grimaced.

After a moment he realized that the fingers sticking out from his half-length gloves looked as if he'd been digging for roots all day during the past week, and he abruptly pulled his hand away. If he were forced to decide between taking soap and taking food from that pile of stuff beside him, he'd be in a real pinch.

As if he'd removed her support, her head sagged forward and away from the window, revealing a smudge of blood. It began to trail from a cut beneath her hairline down along the side of her face. The cut didn't seem all that deep, but it looked as if it was in a spot that bled easily and had only been held together because of her head resting against the remains of the window. Now her neck also bent forward in a way that made her breathing become more labored. Sonic didn't need to be an alien expert to know that he couldn't leave her sitting like this for long. There had to be a way to decline the backrest, otherwise he'd have to somehow drape her across the center console or something.

He tried a few knobs and handles, finally finding the one that moved the seat. Then he carefully held her head up with one hand and, in an act of late-night acrobatics (why did everything have to be so fricking large?), rolled the backrest down until it touched the backseat. Her breathing became quiet again, but the blood from her wound kept trailing into her hair. He needed to get some pressure onto it.

He crawled back to the other side, picking through the pile of groceries and collecting them on the seat. Among the foodstuffs he found two large bottles of water, a set of square cloths and… _a toothbrush?_ It was packed into a slim plastic tube and looked a bit like one of those cheap giveaways made for anyone's teeth, but it was what it was: a toothbrush.

Sonic picked it up, glancing at the woman. She was still unconscious, obviously. Maybe she even had a concussion and wouldn't remember anything of tonight. She wouldn't miss that toothbrush, would she?

_Chaos._ Sonic shook his head. A moment ago he was fine with taking half of her food, now he worried about taking a frickin' toothbrush? He pocketed the thing before his conscience could intervene any further then grabbed the cloths and one of the bottles and pushed the door open again. Leaning out he removed his gloves, rinsed his hands, and dampened one of the cloths before drinking up most of the rest of the water. Then he climbed back to her side, stashing his gloves and letting the door fall shut again.

Some of the blood had run behind her ear and eventually down her neck onto the seat. It wasn't exactly pouring out, but the bleeding didn't look like it'd stop on its own anytime soon. Sonic balled up the damp cloth and began dabbing at the blood around her wound, carefully trying to figure out the size and shape of the cut. She stirred a couple of times, making him pause, but it wasn't enough to wake her up.

Sonic folded one of the smaller cloths and placed it carefully across the cut, pressing down on it and trying to shut the wound as seamlessly as possible. He had no idea what a scar would look like on their skin, but they obviously couldn't cover it with fur. He'd better try and do a decent job here.

After a while of putting pressure on the wound, he rolled up another cloth and tied it tightly around her head. Her breathing became stronger and more even during his treatment, as if she'd slipped from unconsciousness to regular sleep. It was a good sign, but it also meant it wouldn't be long until she woke up now.

Sonic retreated back to the other seat's legroom, sliding down with his back against the dash and his knees against the seat's padding. He crossed his arms and eyed the shoppings in front of him, mentally picking an armful of stuff. It was time to get out.

…If only it wasn't so mind-numbingly _comfortable_ in here. Ever since entering the car, he felt as if he were under a warm blanket: No wind tugging at his fur, no dampness creeping into…_everywhere_—man, he wouldn't mind spending the night in here. But the best he could do was stay inside for a bit longer. If she started to wake up, there'd still be enough time to grab the things he wanted before he left. Yeah, just a bit longer…

It was about then that he dozed off.

#

Sonic snapped awake when something poked the side of his head.

The woman sat hunched over on the driver's seat, eyes narrowed. She held a wooden cooking spoon in her hand.

His mind took a moment to catch on. Woman. Awake. Still dark. _Food._

Sonic awkwardly scrambled to his feet, bumping his head into the roof of the car before picking up the stuff he'd mentally filtered out before. It'd be okay. He still got this. He didn't care what she thou—

»Hey!« She smacked him to the side of his head again with her spoon.

"_Ow._" Sonic spun, letting go of the groceries. "What was that for?"

…Dumb question.

The woman shrank back, grimacing and apparently preparing for him to retaliate. When he didn't, the spoon lowered slightly. »Wait… You talk?« she said. It sounded like a slightly confused question. Too bad his only replies were 'yes' and 'goodbye' at this point. It was worse than gambling.

…Well, almost. For all he knew 'goodbye' was the one to use, preferably carrying an armful of stuff with him. But now apparently enough time had passed to develop second thoughts. Somehow, grabbing the odd vegetable from a random backyard felt different than swiping things while someone was looking at you.

Also, he didn't want to find out the kind of punches women could pull on this planet.

Sonic slid back into his position between dash and seat, grumbling and crossing his arms. Why the heck did he have to fall asleep _again_?

»…Hello?« she said, huffing after a moment when the answer seemed to take too long. »Are you gonna keep ignoring me now, or what?«

Sonic looked at her and she startled slightly, posture getting defensive again. She was still hunched over, one arm resting in her lap as if she didn't want to move it. She'd probably hurt it during the crash as well. Maybe, if there was something else he could help her with, she'd be up for a trade or something. It'd feel a lot better that way.

He got halfway out of his wedged-in position, already having her entire attention, and gestured towards his shoulder and then hers in an attempt to give his words some reference. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She blinked, reflexively looking to her shoulder. »…What?«

Sonic resisted rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I think we both noticed I'm not speaking your language."

She looked skeptical.

Sonic sighed then got up and braced his knees against the center console so he could lean over to her side. He reached for her collar to check for a bruise or something, but she blocked him off with her spoon, holding it firmly in front of his nose. »Hey! What do you think you're doing?«

Sonic raised his hands in defense, backing off. "Jeez, I know I look strange and can talk and all that jazz, but let's just figure this out, alright?"

She frowned again, holding her position. After a moment she bit her lip, then something seemed to click and her eyes lit up. Sonic let his hands drop.

»Did you do that?« she asked, pointing the finger of her spoon-wielding hand at the bandana around her head. Now it was Sonic's turn to frown. He was fairly sure it was a simple question. It'd just be nice to know _which_ one…

»Was _that_ you?« she tried again, this time extending her gesture to point towards him as well.

Oh.

»Yes,« he said. It was worth a try.

She blinked, arching both eyebrows. »Yes?« she repeated. »Tell me that's not all the English you know.«

»Uhm… yes?« he tried again, shrugging lightly.

Apparently, his response was worth letting go of the spoon to have her hand free to run it across her face.

»…Okay,« she said. »Guess we gotta make do with that then…«

She took a deep breath then reached for the collar of her hoodie, carefully pulling it aside. The area around what had to be her collarbone was discolored—skin taut and swollen. She grimaced when she drew the fabric back in place. »Looks great, huh?« She seemed to wait for a response.

It looked broken, actually. No wonder she didn't want to use her other arm.

»By the way,« she added. »If you weren't sitting in the way I think I would be out of the car already. Just so you know.«

Admittedly, it was nice to have someone talk to him without trying to shoo him away or hit him with something (well, almost…). But, Chaos, it was _so frustrating_.

"We should put your arm into a sling," he said. "'S gonna be easier for you to get out if you don't have to hold it." There, how was that for being counter-frustrating.

»…I have a feeling this was actually a helpful contribution, but—«

Sonic picked up the last of the cloths from the seat. He spread it out, folded it into a triangle and briefly hooked his arm into it. "Well?" He cocked his head. The cloth was a bit short, but he could probably make it work somehow.

She gaped but quickly collected herself. Her eyes scanned the inside of the car and eventually came to rest on the tilted back of her seat. She placed a finger on top of the backrest and let it sit there, meeting his eyes. »There should be a first aid kit under there,« she said. » It's a box. Can you get it?«

…What? Sonic felt his face knit into a frown. What did that seat have to do with a sling?

Her lips formed a line and she tried again. »A box.« She moved her hand in a vaguely rectangular pattern. »Underneath.« Another gesture, pointing downwards. It clicked.

Sonic crawled to the back of the car and reached beneath her seat, feeling around. His fingers touched some bar-shaped object and he pulled it out, recognizing it as a phone. That made sense. He handed it to her. Instead of taking it, she gestured dismissively. »No. No, not that one. That one died on me right after I woke up.«

_No_? Hadn't he heard that one before? If he kept up like this, he could end up with a decent vocabulary in, like, a year or so… Sonic suppressed a groan.

He dropped the phone on the backseat and reached further underneath her seat, eventually coming up with of some kind of box.

»Yes, that's the one,« she said before he could present it to her. There'd been a _yes_ in there, alright.

Sonic held the box out for her to take but instead of taking it she backed up, looking at him down the length of her nose. »Dude, if you don't know what that is I'm not exactly confident about you helping me.«

…Okay. Did that mean _he_ was supposed to open it now, or what? Why would she have something in her car she didn't want to open? Chaos, this could go a lot better here.

Sonic hesitantly lifted the lid of the box then opened it fully when he realized what it was: A _first aid kit_. Jeez, for someone so fast he could be frickin' slow sometimes.

It took him a moment to find a packaged cloth lined with instructions (among decidedly terrifying things like shears and _band aids_) and tore it open. There were two ways to tie the thing, one of which had the cloth go across the opposite shoulder so it wouldn't put pressure on the injury. Couldn't hurt to try that.

She shrank away when he approached, apparently needing a moment to brace herself. Sonic waited until she gave him a nod for an 'okay', then he kneeled beside her, gently lifting her bad arm. She drew a startled breath the moment he moved it then seemed to try her best to relax until he'd spread the cloth out underneath. He put one end of it on her opposite shoulder and left the other at elbow-height before climbing behind her and reaching for it. He heard her exhale softly.

»Dude, you need a bath,« she muttered.

…Why, exactly, had that sentence made him feel self-conscious all of a sudden…?

A light drew his attention to the windows. It was only another car passing by, visible through the rain and trees outside. With the bright interior of her car turning everything outside into complete blackness, he'd almost forgotten that there might be others around coming for help. Was it unfair that he wanted them to take their time now…?

»Hey,« she said softly. »You alright back there?«

Sonic grunted, finally grabbing both ends of the cloth to tie a knot behind her back. He tugged the fabric into place, then returned to the upper end of the backrest and sat down cross-legged. She took a moment to test the cloth with her free hand, then slowly rested her injured arm fully into it, visibly relaxing as she straightened her upper body for what seemed like the first time.

»Whoa. Thanks,« she said with a smile. »That's much better.«

Sonic shrugged. "You're welcome. I guess."

She shifted in her seat and began unfurling her legs, struggling to stretch them out across the center console. Sonic climbed out of the car's back door, earning a confused look. Then he opened the passenger door from the outside and extended a hand.

His eyes were drawn to the groceries again.

It probably wasn't too late.

"So, 's there any chance you wanna share some of the stuff you bought?" he asked.

Her eyes followed his gaze and she seemed to take a moment to process what he'd meant, eyes latching to one thing after the other. »I, uh—sure, take what you want, but most of it is not exactly ready-made—«

A light appeared at the corner of his eye, drawing both of their attention. Someone seemed to approach from the road, torchlight bouncing in the night. What kind of shitty timing was _that_? Sonic swallowed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He gave her one last look and a nod, then disappeared into the trees.

#

One guy.

_One_ frickin' guy.

Sonic paced along a high-up branch, fists clenching.

He hadn't wanted to run into another _group_ of them, alright, but one guy he could've dealt with. Or, at least, he could've stayed long enough to help her out of the car, and then long enough for her to give him something, _anything_ from her stash in return. Just up to the point when the guy decided to grab him or attack him or whatever half of them thought was the best reaction when seeing a foreign species. He rolled his eyes.

Instead, the man—he was either elderly or belonged to a more wrinkly kind—had helped her out of the car, handed her his umbrella, and now collected her shoppings for her, chatting about whatever while her replies rarely went beyond a nod.

She glanced into the woods, searching.

Sonic ground his teeth. He really was the worst at goodbyes.

Only a couple of hours ago he'd been convinced that the best way he could go about getting back home was to look for other Star Posts, and then either hope that he'd find the mysterious moustachioed egg-shaped human from his vision, or that somehow something new would happen the moment he got close. Now though, he'd had two largely decent encounters with the local aliens in a single day, and the idea of finding someone to communicate with and giving his situation a bit more direction didn't seem so far-fetched anymore. Maybe moustache-guy was even actually popular or something.

The two below took some of her other things from the car's trunk—books, apparently. Then the man leaned into the car's front, fumbling for something. When he came back out, the lights had gone out and Sonic could only hear the door fall shut again. The torchlight came back on and the man handed her whatever he'd gotten from the car while she absently stared into the woods again. He ushered her to follow, and after a moment she nodded and began trudging up the slope after him.

Sonic wrung his fists.

...It'd be so easy now to follow those two.

Getting back in touch with someone who'd already encountered him did seem like a better plan than starting to pick out people at random. But then he wasn't sure how freaky _he'd_ find it if one of them just suddenly showed up on his doorstep in the middle of the night.

Sonic sighed.

Well, at least now he had a dry spot to sit out the rain in.


	8. Chapter 8: Don't 'What' Me! (I)

_I have added a small note to chapter 1 that might clarify a few things regarding this fic :). _

_Also, in case it's not obvious, quotation marks in this chapter are depending on which language is 'native' to the POV character._

* * *

**Chapter 8: Don't 'What' Me! (I)**

It had taken Sonic about five more seconds in the nightly rain to decide that, _screw it_, she'd survive being creeped out for a moment if it got him closer to another shot at actually getting home. It was probably the worst idea he'd had so far. But then nothing could really top ending up on an alien planet in the first place, so he had a bit of leeway…

The wrinkly guy had dropped her off at a hospital, and Sonic had actually managed to stay awake this time (even though it had stopped raining midway and he'd started feeling vaguely comfortable again), and he'd managed to catch the moment she came back out. Then he'd started following the car that had picked her up—a yellow thing with a sign on top. It was probably a cab.

The car took a turn into a dimly lit suburb and Sonic scaled a nearby house to keep running on roofs again. He had no idea how deep into the night it was by now, but the area seemed positively deserted. He was probably stirring up more people by trampling on their roofs than by zipping through their backyards at this point, but catching the drivers attention was clearly the worse option.

After a couple of more turns, the cab came to a halt on the wide front yard of a four story apartment house lined with a handful of tall trees on either side. The building seemed to be part of a square complex of three other buildings surrounding a lawn. Each of them had outside stairs leading to open walkways that took you to the respective doors.

Sonic perched, watching from the roof across as she dragged herself out of the car. A small backpack hung from her good elbow, and the bag of groceries she still carried was awkwardly cradled in the same arm. The other arm was still in a (slightly more professional looking) sling, and some sort of harness seemed to be strapped around her shoulders.

She exchanged a couple of words with the driver, then began trudging up the stairway, all the way to the topmost floor.

#

"Oh, come on! Do keys _always_ have to be in the wrong pocket when you've got your arms full? Seriously…" Jen crouched down and set the worn shopping bag on the ground in what felt like a minute-long process. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this ready to call it a day.

And _what_ a day.

First she'd been late to the library and missed out on half of the books for her assignment, then she decided to go shopping and had to wait in line behind, like, a bus full of pensioners, _then_ she had to call off a meet-up with Allan, and _then_ she messed up her car on the way home, with the only help around being some kind of blue… _something_ that she still couldn't quite wrap her head around. The universe could've really picked a better moment to confront her with the idea of sentient animal people casually knowing how to tie a sling.

Jen let her backpack slide to the ground beside the bag and straightened up again, fishing for her keys.

There was a _clang_ on the metal railing behind her and she spun, keys halfway to the lock. Jen felt her mouth drop open.

"You!" she said intelligently.

He crouched on top of the walkway's metal railing and gave her a two-fingered salute.

»Hey,« he said, grinning briefly and showing a row of oddly perfect teeth. Then he studied her for a moment as if unsure what to do next.

"_Hey_ yourself," she muttered.

_Now_ he showed up? It would've been nice if she could've talked to that old man without sounding like a nutcase earlier. She'd later even asked around in the waiting room, and had tried to absorb as much of the news from a nearby TV as possible. But no one had even faintly known what she was talking about, and she eventually had to convince herself to dismiss the encounter as a freaky once-in-a-lifetime experience. It took some effort to rearrange her brain again now.

Also, it didn't help that he tried to be all casual with her while crouching on a metal railing four stories above ground.

His eyes followed her own gaze into the darkness that was the yard below, and he seemed to catch on just as she was positive she'd exhausted her grimacing capacity.

He rose to his feet, looking amused and vaguely gesturing to the ground below. »What? You think that's high?« he began in the same language as before. »Better not watch me ride on the back of a plane then.« That brief grin again. At some point during that sentence his fingers had interlocked at the back of his head, somewhere inside the spiky mess that were apparently quills growing there, and he managed to look more relaxed standing on a high-up metal railing than she currently did on solid ground.

He seemed to gauge her reaction and Jen was pretty sure she hadn't changed her expression. After a moment he cocked his head, growing strangely serious. He sat down on the rail and interloped a foot with one of it's bars. Jen exhaled softly.

"Well…" she began, realizing she'd curled the fingers of her looped arm around the other. "I'm glad you're not just a figment of my imagination, but—" She bit her lip. What now? She couldn't just go inside now, could she? Would he just… leave? Or would she be stuck with him for the rest of her life? He couldn't _really_ understand her, could he? It had seemed like it at times, but it had probably just been coincidence.

He took a breath and averted his eyes, staring at the ground for a moment. Then he shook his head and faced her again. »Guess we both have no idea what we're supposed to do now, huh?« he said. »Glad you're looking okay though.« He hopped to the ground before her and gave her that salute again. »Sorry for bothering ya and all. Take care!«

He turned and headed for the stairs.

"No, wait," Jen blurted, regretting it the same moment.

He paused, turning halfway to look at her again with a strange mixture of frustration and… hopefulness, maybe? His fingers curled into fists.

Jen chewed her lip.

She had more than a ton of questions by now and knew that this was just the chance she'd wanted to have after he'd left her in the woods. But what was she supposed to do now? Let him in just like that? He _had_ helped her, alright, and she felt like some thanks was in order, but would she be able to get him _out_ again if it somehow got too much?

He watched her quietly, then lowered his gaze before turning around again.

"Goodbye," he said with a bit of a melodic accent.

What? Jen blinked. This was going too fast.

"Wait," she said, and he paused again, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he turned around. He cocked his head, taking a breath.

"Uh," she began, fumbling with her keys. "You… you can come in if you want…" Jen swallowed, pointing at the door as he raised an eyebrow…-ridge…-thing. She was fairly sure he'd gotten her intent. He crossed his arms as if to say 'are you sure?'.

It was the first time Jen thought he looked a little lost.

She edged closer to the door, trying not to keep her eyes from him as she unlocked it and pushed it open, then she tilted her head towards the inside.

He looked sideways, letting his arms drop and apparently trying to stifle a smile. Then he came over and hefted the bag of groceries into his arms. It took Jen a moment to process that she was the one supposed to enter first.

#

Sonic closed the door behind him, now standing in a short, softly lit and somewhat stuffed corridor that opened into a larger room. She'd gone in ahead, leaving her shoes at the side between a bunch of other pairs, and now waited quietly for him to follow.

Being inside a home was… _odd_ all of a sudden. As if his feet weren't supposed to walk on perfectly smooth ground anymore. And the dry, warm air with the faint smell of furniture made him feel as if he was heating up from the inside. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to close a door. It hadn't been half as weird when he'd stepped into the house on the island only days before.

He took a few more steps inside, then paused again when something blue appeared in the corner of his vision. To his side a mirror stuck out, halfway hidden behind a couple of coats. Sonic instinctively straightened himself when he saw his reflection: some weird blue guy, way too short for everything around him and with a strange, crumpled shopping bag in his arms. He'd been prepared to look like crap, but, _damn_, for a brief moment he'd been _confused_ by his reflection. As if he'd already gotten way too used to seeing their alien faces all around. He really _was_ the odd one out around here.

Sonic tore his gaze from the mirror and found her looking at him. She'd probably watched him the entire time. Now she abruptly stepped aside and beckoned for him to follow.

»Uh, yeah. Come in,« she said—whatever it meant exactly. All of this 'not talking' was going to drive him nuts at some point.

The longish room he entered had just about strained its capacity. At its center, around a low table that could've been a decent dinner table elsewhere, stood an old leather couch with matching armchair. At the room's far end, on a slightly elevated floor, a bed stood beneath a skylight, and to Sonic's right was a hopelessly cluttered desk that would've made Miles wither on the spot. He stifled a smile.

Two doors led away from the room—one to the left of that bed-elevation, the other right behind him past the desk—apparently into a small kitchen.

…Well, small to her anyway.

Sonic shifted the bag in his arms and headed inside, pausing again when he heard her draw a breath. Her eyes seemed to follow the movement of every hair he had on his body.

#

Jen's mind wasn't exactly at its best at the moment. She was exhausted, probably high on painkillers, and in a very, very odd situation in need of making sense of. Unfortunately, there was no way figuring things out by simply _talking_ to the creature in question.

She guided him into the kitchen and watched him balance the bag on a chair just like anyone would in a place in which they had no idea where stuff went. But his eyes wandered, lingering briefly on every other thing, as if he had to make sense of what he saw while at the same time he just seemed to be acknowledging the things around him. She figured he'd been in a house before, but it still felt off in a way. He appeared to act natural most of the time and this situation didn't seem to be the thing to become tentative about.

She was also pretty sure that he was perfectly aware of himself. When he'd seen himself in the mirror he couldn't hide some… dissatisfaction, but she'd gotten the impression it had rather been because he frankly looked somewhat like a vagabond (the scent of wet rag mixed with bonfire wasn't particularly easy to ignore, either), and not because he'd been generally freaked out by his appearance.

And his clothes were curiously well-fitting, too. At first she thought he'd stolen some kids' clothes, but those red and white sneakers looked pretty premium despite their wear, and his cargo-shorts even had a tailored hole for his short tail to stick out. It weren't things you just picked up. Did it mean there was a place were guys like him got proper clothes and had their own language, now? She wasn't remotely enough of a conspiracy person to come up with a decent explanation as to how something like this could've gone over everyone's head.

"So," Jen said, apparently pulling him out of thoughts of his own as he turned to face her. "Is there _anything_ you understand? _Français, peut-être?_" she asked, vaguely hopeful.

He lifted a finger, brows furrowing, then let is hand drop again. »You know, there's probably a really good response to whatever you just said, but—« He shrugged.

"Yeah, I'll take your word for it," Jen said.

An idea struck her.

Maybe that teaching-degree in progress would finally be good for something other than draining her bank account…

She went over to her desk and pulled a writing pad from beneath a stack of papers before letting herself sink into her swivel chair and instinctively reach for the pen clipped to the pad. The spot was empty. Jen started to rummage.

He appeared before her with a pen in his hand, holding it out for her to take. »Didn't think I'd need _that_ thing anytime soon, but here,« he said, expression somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

Jen moved to sit a bit more upright, awkwardly repositioning herself without bothering her shoulder. They were roughly on eye-level now and it was kind of hard not to stare. How could he act so _human_ without even remotely looking the part? He even seemed pretty self-assured most of the time—something she could only imagine someone to be if they'd been in this… shape for quite a while now.

Her first thought had been that, at some point, he must've had transformed or mutated somehow. But that made about just as much sense to her as the idea that he simply had been born like this. ...Allan shouldn't have dragged her into watching sci-fi movies with him last weekend.

Well. Only one way to find out for sure.

Jen delicately took the pen he offered and muttered a "thanks". He gave a slight nod in response.

The pen looked about as worn as he did, made of some sort of plastic that had cracked at the end and now revealed a narrow refill. She pulled off the cap and began scribbling it to life out of habit. It had an odd feel to it, like a pencil drawing thin lines of ink, and it didn't come from a brand she recognized. But she wasn't exactly an expert in pens, so that ultimately didn't mean much.

"Alright," she said, grabbing his attention. She drew one figure resembling a human, and a second, smaller and somewhat more large-headed, spiky figure next to it.

"You," she declared, pointing the pen at him and then at the second figure.

He raised an eye ridge.

"Yeah, I know. I'm an exceptionally gifted artist."

His brows knitted just a tad more and she directed his eyes back at the paper.

"So: you." She pointed at him again, then at the little human on her pad, and then drew a couple of squiggly lines from there towards the incredible artwork that was supposed to resemble her newly acquired guest.

"Have you _transformed_ somehow?" She tried to make her point with a bunch of expansive gestures but only earned a few confused blinks and few of what must've been his languages' version of a "what?". A grin crept into his words and only spread further.

»What? No! No way!« he said, shaking his head and laughing by now. It was strangely refreshing.

He snatched the pen from her fingers and took a few tentative strokes before flipping the pad around in her lap and drawing a second, stick-figure-like being of his kind that came out only marginally better than hers.

»I'm not sure I wanna know how this works around here,« he said, drawing another figure and regarding it briefly. He added a pair of boobs. »But were I come from, we get _born_.« He traced a Y-shaped line from both of the figures to the one she'd assigned to be him. »And I definitely have no idea how I'm s'pposed to explain that to you if you don't even know what I'm talking about.« He emphasized his words by a series of gestures that somehow involved the pen entering his semi-closed fist, then he shrugged, grimacing briefly. He held the pen out for her to take again.

Jen ignored it, staring at him instead.

Then she blinked, pointing at him. "You," she stated. "Have parents."

It _did_ turn out to be more bizarre than the idea of someone suddenly changing shape.

After a moment with only a shrug for an answer (and her mind going all the wrong places) she threw the pad back on the table and got up to fetch an illustrated atlas from one of her shelves. She returned to her seat, careful not no irritate her shoulder, and cracked the cover open, turning the book around for him to see.

"Where?" she asked, waving her outstretched hand across the stretched-out map of the world.

His gaze latched on to it, and the remains of his amusement were replaced with curiosity. He ran his fingers along the open page.

Jen picked up the writing pad again and balanced it upright in front of her chest. When she had his attention back, she pointed at the sketch he'd drawn and waved her hand across the map. "Your parents. Where are they?"

He shook his head without taking another look at the map. Then a thought seemed to strike and he began leafing through the book, pausing a couple of times until he'd almost reached the end. There, two double pages were dedicated to 'Earth's place in the universe'. He pointed straight at one of the planets of the solar system.

"Huh, what?" Jen twisted to place the writing pad back on her desk and pulled the book out from beneath his pointy fingernail, turning it around. She read the caption: _'Clarion_. _With a semi-major axis only marginally longer than that of Earth, it is considered to be the fourth planet of the solar system. More commonly, however, this blue planet is regarded as Earth's Mirror.'_

Next to it, a picture showed a close-up of both planets' orbits around the sun. Clarion's orbital plane was tilted and likened to Pluto's while Earth shared it's plane with the rest of the solar system. With both planets—Earth and Clarion—circling the sun on opposing sides but on different angles, the little diagram looked a bit like an atom.

_'Clarion has a liquid hydrosphere and a density equal to that of Earth,' she read further. 'Its atmosphere… able to sustain complex life… planet's axis… climate… 22 hour long days…'_

What the heck?

Jen shook her head, scanning the rest of the page in an attempt to recall the stuff she'd supposedly learned about Clarion in school. Didn't they sent space probes over there? What happened to them? The book didn't go beyond the technicalities she'd expect from an atlas, and she failed to recollect anything useful she might've heard before. Any talk about sentient aliens had always come across more as a joke to her.

She looked at him again with a frown, finger tapping on Clarion's image. "You're kidding me. You're from _there_?"

"Yes," he said, a hint of doubt in his voice.

Jen frowned. "You… you just got lucky with that response, right?" she asked carefully.

He crossed his arms, apparently waiting for her to go on.

Jen hesitated. She wasn't surprised that he'd pick up a couple of words and figure out their meaning, but it still seemed weird. How many people had he met before her?

When no other answer came she pulled the pen from his fingers again. This time she drew two planets circling the sun, marking one with an E and the other with a C.

"Okay, here's Earth." She pointed at the ground. "And there's Clarion." She pointed at the roof and then at him—

»Mobius,« he interrupted.

"Hm?"

»It's called Mobius. That one.« He gestured towards the planet marked with a C.

"Okay…" Jen nodded hesitantly. "_Mobius_—if you say so." She struck out the C and replaced it with an M.

"Good. How did you get from there to here?" she asked, tracing a line from Mobius to Earth then drawing a little spaceship along with it. Hopefully he'd recognize her new masterpiece.

His eyes lit up with recognition, but he shook his head and plucked the pen from her fingers again. He flipped to a fresh page and began drawing some kind of pole, briefly looking amused again.

His pictured explanation took a while. Apparently there was some kind of portal that had brought him from one planet to the other, and now it somehow couldn't take him back again, even though it seemed to try and tell him something that apparently had to do with a fat man wearing a mustache. By the time he decided he was done, her mind was even more mushy than it had been at the beginning of the evening.

Everything seemed so absurd, she was almost inclined to believe him. He was here, after all, and obviously not human. And he didn't exactly look equipped for space travel either.

He pointed at the pole, at his and her eyes, and at the pole again. »Have you seen something like this?«

Jen could identify a question by now.

"No," she said slowly, shaking her head. He seemed to understand.

"You know what," Jen said after a while of trying to put her thoughts in order. "I feel like I should believe you. But… give me some time to check up on a few things, okay?"

#

Sonic crossed his arms, watching as she rolled her chair closer to her desk and switched on some kind of flip-thing that turned out to be a computer. It didn't seem as if she wanted to involve him at the moment.

He had no idea how much time had passed. Explaining stuff in an art form he was about opposite as good at as talking wasn't only exhausting, it was also insanely _slow_. If communication kept going at this pace, he was probably better off trying to build a trebuchet and shoot himself off the planet than to keep searching for people knowing about Star Posts of all things.

…Which was what he was still doing, right?

Everything seemed to be a mess right now. He was hungry, he felt like a grimy, smelly intruder in her place, and he felt as if he'd somehow compelled her to let him in. Plus, communication took so long, he couldn't possibly expect anyone to waste all their time on him—especially not without them getting something in return. The fact that he'd helped her before could never outweigh the time it would take until she really understood what he was looking for (even though that cut on her forehead _did_ look really clean right now…). And him being handed over to whoever dealt with alien stuff around here wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to trade in.

Plus, she didn't actually seem to know anything.

The woman awkwardly hit a few keys with her good hand and still made no effort to involve him in any way. But then she also hadn't made any effort to kick him out yet. No matter how uncomfortable he felt about the general situation, he definitely didn't mind feeling uncomfortable in the warm and dry.

Sonic took a probing step towards the couch. When she didn't react, he moved past it to a shelf that had a small version of what he'd already recognized as their world's television on it. Behind it, a couple of cables ran along the wall and all the way underneath her desk where they plugged into some sort of connector. Had these guys run out of chaos drives or what? He only knew cords as something like a last resort. But if their cities were as crowded as they looked, they probably couldn't deal with it any other way. He just wondered why they didn't put more plants everywhere to balance it out.

On the table by the couch he spotted a pair of what looked like remotes and picked one up, randomly pressing a button. Some upbeat rock song started playing. Not half bad, actually.

She immediately spun around on her desk chair. »Hey, don't—«

Sonic raised his hands like a caught thief, cutting her off. His thumb moved to press the same button again and the music stopped.

She pressed her lips together as if inwardly debating what to do with him now. Sonic placed the remote back on the table, expecting to get the boot any moment. Well, it had been nice and all.

…Maybe he could skip by that bag in the kitchen on the way out, though.

Her face lit up. »Ha, I have just the idea,« she said.

That sounded… enthusiastic?

»Come.«

She got up and moved towards the door beside the elevation, pulled it open and flipped on the lights. Apparently she wanted him to follow.

Sonic rounded the couch and took a peek into the last room of her small apartment. It turned out to be a bathroom. Sonic needed a moment to realize he was gaping.

The room's space roughly mirrored the entrance corridor. It was narrow but large enough to have pretty much every important part in it. …As far as Sonic could tell, anyway. To the left was a tub about the size of a toddler bath. It was probably their idea of a toilet.

She brushed past him and slid open a stall to the right.

A _shower_.

She had about five seconds left to leave him alone, so why was she _stepping in_?

She came back out having grabbed two bottles and crouched down in front of him. Sonic licked his lips. Could he somehow just… roll her out without making her shoulder worse…?

»Alright,« she said, thumbing towards the stall. »I really hope you know what this is, 'cause I'm not gonna get in there with you.«

Sonic glanced inside. There was a shower head and a handle—nothing mysterious. Damn, his foot was tapping.

»…Okay,« she said hesitantly, then wagged one of the bottles in front of his face, grabbing about half of his attention.

»This one's for hair,« she said, somewhat awkwardly running a few fingers through her hair while her bad hand stiffly held the bottle. »And this one—« She picked up the other bottle, paused, eyed him then the bottle skeptically for a moment then put it away again. »Never mind.«

She got back on her feet, reached into a shelf and pulled a towel out, dropping it into his hands.

_No way_. This couldn't possibly be real. With his luck, he was probably two seconds short of waking up in a cold and damp forest, realizing he'd dreamt the whole thing. But, Chaos, even just dreaming of a shower was better than no shower at all. He dropped the towel to the floor and began tugging at his belt while at the same time trying to slip out of his shoes.

»Whoa, hey, hold on—« She raised her hand in defense, interrupting him. »You're on your own from here. Try not no make a mess.« She stepped out, but not without casting a slightly doubtful glance back into the bathroom on her way.

»Thanks,« Sonic said.

That seemed to catch her off-guard. She gradually developed a grin.

»You're welcome,« she said.


	9. Chapter 9: Don't 'What' Me! (II)

_Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter :)._

_**Guest:** I'm glad Jen seems cool so far (especially considering this fandom's attitute towards OC's...). I'd like to think as long as you can still manage to make every scene about the canon characters in some way, it'll work out in the end._

_I don't speak French (and I hope I didn't write nonsense ^^;). I only chose to put it in to try and hint at their location without actually saying it out loud. _

_Reviews _are _very motivating by the way :D, but these are really strange times right now, and I wish those bursts of motivation would last a little longer... I'm currently full-time working from home, and you'd think not having a commute would leave you with more time to do other things? Turns out my commute is now 'time spent in the kitchen', and I need to actively make room for some downtime during the day, which in the end feels more exhausting than having a regular work day..._

* * *

**Chapter 9: Don't 'What' Me! (II)**

Jen closed the door behind her and took a deep breath, pricking her ears to the sound of shuffling clothes from inside her bathroom. A moment later the water started running and she heard the stall door slide shut. Now she had him out of her hair for a while—and hopefully a more pleasant version of him around afterward.

But then what?

Could she get some more info out of him? He'd seemed eager to 'talk' to her before—a bit frustrated, but interested nonetheless. Having to _draw_ everything took forever though, and she couldn't imagine she'd be able to keep his attention long enough for it to actually amount to anything.

On the other hand, searching the web hadn't been particularly successful either. 'Posts with a star on top' had given her pages upon pages of Christmas decoration, and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out what 'blue furred animals' or 'animal people' would yield.

'Clarion' had at least managed to somewhat refresh her memory: One probe from the early 70s had taken a bunch of (now) horrible resolution black and white images, then broken down. A bit later another one had passed the planet and taken an image of its dark side (littered with night lights, amazingly), and a third one a decade after, which should've gotten into close orbit again, had broken down before it could take any telling pictures. After that, it looked as if nothing much else had happened in terms of alien planet research, and she'd become way too exhausted to find out otherwise.

…Other than with the live specimen she had at hand, anyway.

Was it odd that he'd apparently picked up a handful of words on his way? Was it odd that he knew about showers? Were the instructions on first aid material just _that_ good?

Would she get in trouble for taking him in?

It was probably a good idea to start with figuring out whether he was currently on the run from someone.

#

_Chaos_, he was going to stay in that shower forever.

This was the third time he'd turned the shower head off then back on again, still standing blissfully under the hot water and feeling his muscles burn and relax from over a week of strain. He hadn't even realized how tense he was until now. It was as if all the exhaustion, chill and hunger he'd accumulated finally had a chance to show, turning his body into some kind of hot, gooey mess with only rubbery bones to keep it upright. If he lay down on the rug outside, he'd probably fall asleep for three days straight.

Sonic sighed, then finally cut off the water with proper determination. He slid the stall door open and fished for the towel he'd dropped. It wasn't as nice as having a full-body blow drier around, but complaining was the last thing on his mind. At this point was fine with shaking himself dry.

He stepped out, catching a dank and musty smell from his clothes and shoved them aside with one foot, grimacing. How had he managed to ignore this before? Or rather, how had _she_ managed to stay so calm around him? No way was he going to put that stuff on again anytime soon. He couldn't even imaging wearing his _shoes_ right now, and you didn't just leave your shoes in another house.

Sonic licked his lips.

He heard her voice from outside and perked up. She sounded distant, pausing after every other sentence, but it didn't seem as if she wanted to catch his attention. Maybe she was on the phone? They had those, alright. Sonic edged closer to the door, listening in as she talked for a while, but the only thing he managed to decipher was a 'goodbye'. It became quiet again afterward.

Had that call been about him?

It was hard to figure out what those guys were thinking.

Sonic still had no idea what to make of her. She seemed reserved and a bit on edge (and also really not like the kind of person who'd be able to help him at some point). But she'd let him in (and let him have a frickin' shower of all things), and she had listened to him despite probably feeling as exhausted as he was. She wouldn't do all this just to… to what? Turn him in to whatever… agency dealing with alien stuff around here? The idea seemed ridiculous.

…Or …not?

Jeez. Normally he could rely on his gut when it came to stuff like this. But _normally_, he could also _talk_, or did at least know what to make of someone's body language. A big part of what usually made up his gut feeling seemed to be missing here—even though he felt as if there hadn't been anything seriously unusual going on so far.

Sonic took in the room once more. There was a small window set into its slanted ceiling that seemed to lead to the roof. He could probably fit through—even smash it if he had to. He'd be gone faster than anyone coming in to check her place out.

He replaced his shoes just in case, pointing their tips towards the window. Then he placed his pants, socks, and gloves beside them, ready to grab.

He stood, then flung the towel across his head and squeezed the last drops of water out of his quills, taking a deep breath. Now that he'd air-dried a bit, every motion felt so light and smooth, he had to resist the urge to constantly run his fingers through his fur. Whatever her deal was, he had to make sure he could stay like this for as long as possible.

#

Jen threw the writing pad onto her couch table, ready to sit down when the bath door opened. He stepped out, towel draped across his head and gripping both of its ends as his eyes scanned the room.

A frown crept onto her face. She'd expected him to appear a bit more… relaxed, considering the time he'd spent under the water. Instead he seemed kind of tense—even a tad suspicious. Was it something she'd done? It was strange how such a small creature managed to make her feel uneasy. But there was a certain… edge to his posture that even his now unmistakable fluffiness couldn't quite cover up. He somehow managed to radiate a 'don't mess with me' attitude, but in a friendly way.

Eventually his gaze came to rest on her and he studied her for a moment. Then he used the towel to rub his face. When he was done, he seemed to have shaken off his strange mood, smiling faintly.

Jen softly released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Then she realized something else: He was wearing absolutely nothing.

Her gaze involuntarily latched to the spot between his legs.

He looked down with the tiniest hint of a startle, then shrugged. »What?«

Jen snorted. She knew that word by now. "Don't _what_ me," she said. "Up until now I was positive you were a guy."

Well, she still kind of was, but… eh?

His brows furrowed briefly. »You don't want me to wear that stuff now, trust me.« He thumbed towards the bathroom.

Jen bit her lip, absently running a hand through her still pony-tailed hair and effectively ruffling it up. Sure, he didn't exactly _show_ anything, but that didn't mean she was ready to have a butt-naked alien sit on her couch.

"Could you maybe put that towel around your waist?" She tried her best gesture.

He seemed puzzled for a moment, then pulled the towel from across his ears and tried fastening it around his waist. It either ended up too long, too wide, or hopelessly bunched up. Also, none of the attempts he made actually covered up his tail or his behind. Jen grimaced. It was time to abort mission.

He gave her a slightly helpless shrug.

"Never mind." She shook her head. "Just… sit down. There's stuff I need to figure out."

#

Jen had picked up their notes and scribbles again, trying to determine where he'd been so far and what else he knew. At this point, though, nothing hinted at dubious organizations trying to catch their runaway alien, and she seriously hoped it stayed that way. In the process they'd almost naturally started to mimic each other's phrases, and she'd begun to wonder whether it was possible make the whole process a little less… aimless. But before that, introductions were in order.

"Jennifer," he repeated, pronouncing it with the typical mixture of doubt and determination of someone trying to word something for the first time. It was nevertheless pretty flawless.

"Huh. Perfect," she said, giving him a thumbs up. He seemed to recognize the gesture.

»I'm Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog,« he announced with an air of confidence.

Jen hoped she'd picked the right words to repeat. "Sonic… Sk–" She frowned. "Do I need both?"

He smiled. »Sonic. Sonic is fine.«

"So, 'Sonic'… Huh. Shouldn't you have a more 'alien' sounding name? That one's almost making me suspicious."

The doorbell rang and Sonic's ears pivoted to catch the sound. If he hadn't already lost the towel, now sitting disconcertingly cross-legged on the couch across from her and reminding her of his nakedness (gladly, without actually _showing_ anything), she might've found it endearing.

She stood up. "Could you stay in the kitchen for a sec? I'll be right back."

His eyes followed her gestures, then he gave her an almost accusing look and headed towards the bathroom.

What had _that_ been about now? Jen frowned as she picked up her purse, then went to open the door. When she was done paying for the latest-night pizza she ever had and the delivery guy was gone again, she set the food on the couch table and fetched some drinks.

"Come out," she called.

Nothing happened.

Jen rolled her eyes and went to open the bathroom door. The image of walking in on him as he tried to use her facilities briefly flashed before her eyes, but then she already had the door open.

He was halfway done putting on a shoe, then quickly grabbed the second one when he noticed her. He hopped backwards, failing to put on the first shoe in the process. After a moment he gave up, looking at her.

Jen arched an eyebrow. "What're you doing?"

He straightened, softly clearing his throat. Then he tried glancing past her.

She made room for him to peer through the open doorway. He sniffed eventually, then appeared to change from tense to sheepish, putting his shoe back on the floor and absently slipping out of the other.

Jen rubbed her temple. "Could you try to be a bit less confusing?" From what she'd gathered during their previous 'session', he was neither being followed, nor did he seem to be the anxious type. So, what was the deal just now?

"I really hope that was your face of realization," she said. "Because I'm positively starving. Come on."

#

Sonic was already devouring the second slice of whatever it was she'd gotten delivered. It was flat, _cooked_, had a mix of sweet spiciness to it, and was topped with all sorts of things he didn't recognize—save for the two kinds of sliced meat he'd discovered in the mix. Technically, he didn't recognize those either, but he figured he couldn't do much wrong if it was something they'd eat as well.

He had no idea how much those guys usually ate (though what she ordered _did_ take up a good portion of the table), but at the moment he hoped it wasn't in any way related to their size. He felt as if he hadn't eaten anything at all during the past days, and he had a _slight_ margin.

»So,« Jen began, shifting a half-eaten slice between her fingers. »'S that the first pizza you got or do you have that stuff back home?«

Sonic swallowed a way too large bite and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

»That's pizza,« she said after a moment of facial acrobatics.

"... pizza," he repeated carefully.

He was going to remember that one.

#

Jen was asking about Mobius again. She'd even made him draw a world map. Twice. Either she was just overly curious or she somehow couldn't believe that this _Earth_ place really wasn't his home. Plus, she seemed to be pretty amazed whenever she found out about them having cars and TV's and phones and whatnot, when he didn't really know what the big deal was. It was fun for a while, but now all it seemed to do was remind him of how big of a distance he'd put between his home and the few people he was close with—and how ridiculously unlikely it was for him to get back anytime soon.

At least he had someone to talk to at the moment, sort of. Even if she didn't actually know about the thing he was looking for, it still felt as if he was making the first real progress since he'd stranded here. But it also made him realize how much time it was going to take until he would actually be able to make even basic small-talk. If he had to go through this with everyone he met, he'd rather go back to blindly searching Star Posts again…

Jen yawned, rubbing her face. Her gaze wandered to a round thing on the wall that was probably a clock, and she cast him a weary glance.

She had to be tired (and Chaos knew he was, too). It had only been a matter of time, of course, but Sonic had begun to dread the moment. He'd tried to inwardly prepare himself while they'd been figuring out more and more words, but the idea of having to leave her place now made him feel utterly hollow—as if being back at square one.

At least it hadn't started raining again.

»Hope it's okay if we call it a day,« she said, pulling his gaze from the window. »I'm positively dead by now…« Another yawn.

Sonic nodded and slid off the couch. There was no need to draw it out. He headed over to the bathroom to fetch his stuff once again, sensing her stepping up behind him.

Jen leaned into the doorway and gave him a somewhat crumpled look. »What am I doing wrong here?« she asked. »You don't seriously think I'm gonna kick you out now, do you?«

Sonic pressed his lips together. Whenever he thought he was getting a hang of the nuances in her speech, she did something to throw him off. A hint of annoyance wasn't what he'd wanted to pick up—especially not when there were a bunch of 'I's' and 'you's' in the mix. Why did this have to be so _awkward_? He couldn't even tell whether a scolding tone or a skeptical look was just meant as a joke.

She shook her head and sighed, then beckoned him to come. Sonic reluctantly dropped the pants he'd already (also reluctantly…) picked up and followed, watching her start filing through a cabinet. After a moment she tossed him a folded bundle that almost threw him off balance. He shifted it in his arms.

A blanket?

He probably looked like someone seeing a blanket for the first time. Sonic swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat.

»Couch's all yours,« she said, seemingly unfazed. »Now lemme have the bathroom for a while, okay?«

She went into the bathroom, closing the door after her. A moment later she stepped back out, heading towards the kitchen. Sonic briefly heard the crackling of paper, then she returned, mumbling to herself.

He threw the blanket on the couch and slipped into the bathroom before her, grabbing his pants again. He knew there was something he'd forgotten about.

»Hey…,« she said weakly, coming in after him.

Sonic pulled the still untouched toothbrush from his pocket and stuck it into her hand, closing her fingers around it.

"Sorry," he shrugged, heading out again. He began spreading out the blanket.

Jen approached from behind, and Sonic could feel her hovering for a while. When he turned, she had her arm stretched out, holding the toothbrush in front of him.

»Keep it,« she said. »I can live with my old one for a bit longer.«

Maybe failing to steal her food had been his best mess-up since coming to this planet.

#

Jen drifted out of sleep from the sound of a toilet flushing, making her shift beneath her sheets for the umpteenth time. She'd had the crappiest night so far—never been much of a back-sleeper and with no place to comfortably put her hurting arm otherwise. Latently worrying about some alien guy staying in her home overnight probably didn't help matters either.

_…Oh, crap._

Now she was wide awake. That had been _her_ toilet flushing.

Jen pricked up her ears. From the next room came the faint sound of running water and some shuffling, and she sank back under the blanket, grimacing. She had very high hopes that he knew what he was doing, but there was also lots of room for… _deviations_.

Jen bit her lip, preparing to get up, but the bath door cracked open and she huddled back into the sheets, watching with half-lidded eyes.

He trotted over to the couch and sat down on top of the blanket, gaze fixed on the window between TV and desk. It was still dark outside, but the pale light from the lamps below already reflected in the first traces of morning mist, illuminating him in a faint glow. After a while of staring into space, he drew a long, unsteady breath, blinking and frowning, then took a moment to rub his eyes.

Jen's heart took a sting. The entire time he'd seemed so… unfazed by his situation, but now she just wanted to get up and pull him into a hug.

He kept sitting on the couch for a while longer, then abruptly got up and headed back into the unlit bathroom. On the way out he slipped into his socks, gloves, and shoes, then stopped in front of the window, briefly stretching himself before climbing onto the sill. He avoided her stuff with a cat-like grace as he slid the window open and poked his head out.

Then he jumped.

"No!" Jen jolted from the mattress and immediately curled up again, cursing under her breath as a jab of pain went through her shoulder. She clenched her teeth, dragging herself out of the sheets then hobbling over to the window.

There was no trace of him outside. No trace of anyone for that matter—at least as far as she could see in the puny light that shone _four stories down_.

Jen scoffed. "Seriously!?"

She took another look outside, scanning the area. The other window ledges below barely jutted out from the wall, and there was no balcony or anything else that could've broken his fall. The grass down there seemed to be a bit roughed-up, but he couldn't have just landed straight down, could he?

…Well, _apparently_, she wasn't going to find out anytime soon.

Jen rubbed her face and shambled towards the bathroom, then paused, hand hovering above the light switch.

_He'd_ been in there.

She grimaced, closing her eyes and preparing for the worst. Then she hit the switch and slowly inched her lids open again.

There was… nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary anyway. Save for the pair of well-worn cargo shorts that still laid in a heap on the rug. He apparently hadn't bothered to put them on again. Jen crouched down.

She didn't even need to pick the pants up to confirm that they'd really been tailored for someone like him. Not only was there a proper, sewn hole for his tail, she also spotted a label showing a clearly non-human silhouette along with something that looked like measurements in foreign letters. The sight sent a nervous flutter through her stomach. Somehow, it gave all new weight to everything she'd learned about him so far.

She reverently picked the up the shorts and carried them over to the washing machine. On the way something clinked to the floor and she bent after it.

It looked like some kind of bracelet—a sturdy band with a clasp. There were a couple of coined rings lined up on it, along with three carefully embossed sticks that almost looked like tiny keys without a handle. The coining on the rings vaguely resembled the writing Sonic had done alongside their numerous scribblings. Too bad they didn't have any pictures on them—she was getting more and more curious about this.

The pants' pockets bulged slightly.

She'd need to check them if she was going to put the shorts into the washer, didn't she…? Jen hesitated, fingers curling. It didn't feel right to invade his privacy in that way. Then again he'd just left her place by jumping out of the window, apparently not caring about what happened to his stuff. She reached inside.

Hidden between a spectacular collection of dirt crumbs she found the pen from before, a stained jackknife (somewhat unsettling), and a strip of faded wrapping with foreign letters on it. It seemed to still have one single candy inside. Sadly, there weren't any telling pictures on it either.

Jen let her hand drop, shaking her head. This obviously wasn't the equipment of someone going on an interplanetary trip—heck, it wasn't even appropriate for a basic hike. But they were things someone would come back for, and it kind of affirmed why she didn't feel like worrying at the moment.

Jen placed the pocket's contents on the table by the couch, then went back and threw his pants into the washer, watching them spin for a while along with her other stuff and failing to get tired again. It hadn't even dawned outside, but sleeping seemed to be out of the question now.

She headed over to her laptop again. Maybe now she had the energy to find out a little more. And if not, she still had a car wreck that needed dealing with…

She was _so_ not going to the library later today.

#

Sonic had made it back to her roof. Beside him was the large window that let him look down onto her bed. It was empty—he'd probably accidentally woken her up when he left—but he didn't feel like bothering her already again, even though he'd been away for a while. It already dawned outside.

Running had cleared his mind, more so than during all the past days combined. He'd expected to pretty much drop dead on her couch, considering how he'd stuffed himself earlier. But apparently trying to explain your home to someone else when you knew you couldn't just get back there on a whim wasn't the best way of putting your mind in sleep-mode.

He never thought that the simple knowledge of being able to come home whenever he felt like would make such a difference. Heck, even the small things, like buying food at a nearby stand or taking a shower whenever he wanted, meant more than he liked to admit. Exploring a whole new planet should've been the pinnacle of awesomeness. But not being able to take a break when it grew old took all the fun out of it.

Did anyone back home even have an idea where he went? After a couple of days they probably thought he'd gotten lost inside that Star Post portal or something…

They all knew he couldn't stay put for long. He needed to get out, see new things, explore and all that. Usually, he didn't even think of saying goodbye before he left. It seemed so pointless when he knew he'd always come back at some point and he never saw why he should get everyone all worked up beforehand.

But this time…

Sonic swallowed. He just hoped they didn't think he was dead. They might not have a way to reach him right now, but he sure as heck wouldn't stop looking for one to reach _them_. He'd get back, no matter what. If he couldn't do this, no-one could.

The window by his side cracked open and Jen poked her head out. She stood on her bed, tiptoeing awkwardly as she looked out across all the other roofs. Eventually her gaze came to rest on him.

»…I'm not going to ask how you got up here,« she said, looking amused but having that tone in her voice that he hadn't quite figured out yet.

Instead of waiting for a response though, she looked around some more, taking in a breath of fresh air. »Man, it's nice out here,« she said. »Almost makes me want to become a morning person.«

Sonic smiled, then grinned, then eventually broke out laughing when a weird mix of emotions bubbled to the surface.

Jen seemed to startle, then had to grin as well. She began waving her hand up and down and spoke with a hushed voice. »Dude, keep it down! I don't wanna wake everyone.«

Sonic held his breath and ran both hands across his face in an attempt to clear his head again. _Chaos_ it sucked being stuck on another planet. But, damn, it was great not being entirely alone again—even if it only lasted for a while.

»Let's get in.« She beckoned. »I think I'm in for an early breakfast—also, I think that's a word you're gonna learn really fast.«


	10. Chapter 10: Gotta Go Fast

_WHAT IS TIME?_

_Man, this really shouldn't have taken so long. Hope you're still here. _

_**Unphazed, Ieesha Lenorma**: Thanks for the reviews :D. _

__I think this is the only chapter in which Sonic is not (physically) present for a while, **and** there's another OC °_°;;. Fingers crossed!  
__

* * *

**Chapter 10: Gotta Go Fast**

Jen watched Allan sink into the tall bench's thick padding, taking in the cafe's interior despite having been here a dozen times before. They both liked the place. The walls had a dark wooden paneling decorated with numerous small pictures, and the few well-placed separators between the tables made it feel extra-cozy. Today though, Jen kind of failed to enjoy the nice atmosphere. Her and Allan hadn't met since _he'd_ shown up at her place, and she still felt horrible for putting Allan off whenever he called. Obviously, she'd painstakingly avoided talking about Sonic on each occasion. To say that she was somewhat on edge by now was a minor understatement.

Her fingers fumbled with the menu laying on the table.

"So, what's been going on with you lately?" Allan asked, bundling up his trenchcoat and putting it beside him on the bench.

"…Not much. I've just been really occupied," she said. He knew about the car and all.

Allan hummed, crossing his arms and digging his back into the padding again as he studied her. A strand from his persistent 90's hairstyle fell into his face and he plucked it out of the way of his pair of hopelessly outdated glasses. If it weren't for them and his apparent inability to keep a shirt stuck in his pants for a reasonable amount of time he'd almost be one of the cool guys.

He seemed to be working on a way to keep the conversation going.

"You know," he said. "I'm okay if you need time to deal with your car and your shoulder and all that. And I can live with it if it means you're going to avoid me for another two weeks, but by now you've become downright distracted and I'd feel better if I knew what's bothering you."

Jen grimaced. She knew she couldn't fool anyone close to her for long, but, _ugh_. "It's kinda difficult to explain…"

"Try me," he said with a shrug.

The waitress came before Jen could reply, taking their well-practiced order.

Allan ran a hand through his hair then let it drop into his lap. He seemed to reconsider. "I mean, if you have someone else around who's helping you out and you somehow don't want me involved, then just tell me. It's better than having no idea what's up." 'And getting staved off with flimsy reasons', he seemed to add mentally.

Jen shook her head. "No, no, it's not like that. I would've asked you first thing, but I—It's just—" Her hand grasped for words.

Allan frowned.

Jen fidgeted, scanning the café. They'd picked a table in one of the corners and none of the other guests seemed to pay them any attention. There were worse conditions for talking about _him_.

She took a deep breath. "Alright," she said.

He straightened slightly.

"—When I had the accident, there was actually someone else around who helped me. He was already in the car when I woke up, and had already tended to the cut on my forehead. When he saw my shoulder he helped me put my arm into a sling." She gestured vaguely. "But he left just before Mr. Wellis came and picked me up."

"Oh, okay," Allan said, visibly relaxing. "So you didn't get a chance to thank him properly and now you don't know how to find him?"

Jen paused, blinking. That sounded like a much better excuse than the ones she'd come up with before settling on telling him the truth. But it wouldn't be fair to change plans now—especially not towards her own sanity.

"Yes and no," she said eventually. "I do want to find the one who helped me, but—" Jen broke off with a groan. "Oh god, it sounds so stupid. You did notice I keep glancing around the café since we got here, right? I seriously have no idea how anyone is supposed to explain something like this." She threw her good arm into the air, then abruptly stilled when the waitress came with two large lattes. Jen kept her eyes on her as she left.

Allan knitted his brows, studying Jen as he reached for his spoon and began to stir. His face couldn't seem to decide between concern and puzzlement.

She played the words back and forth in her head, each time coming to the conclusion that, apparently, there was no subtle way to put the fact that she'd been helped by an actual extraterrestrial. Also, apparently, a good portion of, 'oh, _whatever_', had to be involved in each version.

Jen looked up, gauging Allan's reaction.

"He's not human," she said finally.

Allan took a sip of his coffee, unnervingly unfazed. He shrugged. "What then? A dog?"

Jen gave him a flat look. "A _dog_. How exactly is a dog supposed to tend to a cut and knot a sling?"

"Uhh, lick it, maybe?" He scratched his head. "And by being Lassie in general." He shrugged again, sharing the first genuine smile since they'd entered the café. "No, seriously. What do you mean?"

Jen took another deep breath, bracing herself. Then she looked Allan in the eyes. "He's an alien," she said.

Allan breathed sharply into his cup, glasses clouding with hot mist. "What?"

She conjured up her most serious face. "I let him stay at my place for the past two weeks, but now he's been gone for three days straight and I can't help but worry. That's why I've been so pre-occupied."

"You… you _what_?" He somehow managed to look exasperated and on the verge of laughing at the same time. "I'm not sure what's worse right now: That you let a random stranger stay at your place or that you're telling me he's—"

"Shh," Jen interrupted, glancing at the nearby tables.

Allan blinked, setting down his cup. "You're serious."

"What do you think?"

A pause.

"From another planet."

"Last time I checked that's how it works."

He blinked again, apparently processing. "…Okay. …What does he look like?"

Allan looked as if he had some difficulty settling on a single question, and Jen couldn't blame him. Part of her was sure he was just trying to be a good friend at this point, but the other part hoped that he would do his best to take this situation as seriously as he took everything else he set his mind to. He was, by far, the most reliable friend she'd made in almost five years of studying, and if there was anyone she'd trust with something like this, it was him.

Jen released a breath, trying to come up with an appropriate description of the alien in question. "Hmm, he's short—about like this." She straightened, holding her hand roughly above nose-height. "A bit scrawny. And his head seems a bit too big for the rest… His eyes are pretty large, too." Jen contemplated her words for a moment then concluded with a nod. "Yeah."

"Eh?" Allan knitted his brows. "So, like one of those Roswell aliens?"

It took her a moment to form the picture in her mind.

"What? No!" She shuddered. "That would be creepy. He's more like—" She paused. "…I feel like I shouldn't be saying this, but: He looks more like an animal. You know, with fur, and pointy ears, and quills all over his back—"

"_That_ sounds creepy."

"It's kind of adorable, actually."

They sat in silence for a bit, drinking coffee and absently watching people come and go. Allan had reacted far more relaxed than Jen had expected and the café began feeling cozy again. But that didn't change the fact that she still had no idea where Sonic could've disappeared to. She'd gotten somewhat used to him randomly leaving her place and returning some hours later, but it had never been this long. He'd even taken his pants with him this time (although she still wasn't sure whether he usually simply chose not to wear those or whether he'd just taken them because she'd decided to wash them a second time…).

"So." Allan interrupted her thoughts. "Any details? Where's he from? Are we in for an invasion? Did he crash land somewhere? Does he have a mission? Where are the crazy news reports?"

Jen shook her head, stifling a smile. "There's… none of that. He's alone—at least I'm pretty sure. From what I gathered he came here through some kind of portal and now somehow can't go back the same way. I think he never even intended to be here in the first place. So, it's kind of exciting and not very exciting at the same time."

"Hmm, but— that sounds pretty vague. From someone you allow to stay at your place I'd expect straighter answers."

"Trust me, I'd love to know more, but it appears English isn't the universe's first language." She shrugged.

He snorted. "That'd be the first thing I'd try to learn before going off on another planet."

"And then you'd dig yourself into books for three years straight and never actually get off." She stifled a smile.

"Probably," he admitted with a grin. "But still."

"Actually," Jen said. "I don't think they even know that much about us. Or what do _you_ know about Clarion?"

"Wait. He's from _there_?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Nothing. I just—I mean, it _is_ the most likely place, but for some reason I expected something different," he said. "You sure?"

Jen nodded. "It's one of the things he was pretty clear about."

"Huh." Allan scratched his chin in thought. "Man, do you remember that Voyager photo? I was all over it when I was a kid. Couldn't believe they really needed _scientists_ to figure out that those were city lights."

"—Says the scientist," Jen chuckled.

Allan gave her a mock-peeved look.

"Shame that the other probe broke down after getting into Clarion's orbit," he added. "Apparently they put all further planned attempts on hold, because they couldn't determine whether it was a bug or an 'act of aggression'."

"…How do you know all that stuff by heart?"

"Don't you?"

"No? Normal people have to look these things up." Jen laughed.

He gave her a smug look that got halfway lost behind his glasses. "Well. Then: Did you know SETI caught a message a few years ago? The wavelengths could be reduced to some kind of mathematical pattern (so, nothing that the general public would find exciting). I heard they tried to transmit something back, but I guess I kinda grew out of it and never checked whether there was a follow-up…" He seemed to dig his brain for more things on the matter.

"Well," Jen said. "Whatever they did, it's not that important anymore, now that he's left."

"Any ideas where he could've gone?"

"If I had I wouldn't have spent the past three days worrying," she said.

Allan hummed. "It's probably better that way. I mean, as long as you can't be sure what he really is doing here—it might just as well be something you don't actually want to be involved in."

She sighed. "Maybe. I don't know. I guess there really isn't much I can do now." Jen let her shoulder droop. "Wanna come over in the meantime? For, uh, another cup of coffee or something?" she asked, feeling sheepish.

#

Jen paused in the open doorway to her apartment, a frown forming on her face.

"What's up?" Allan asked, peering in beside her. Her place looked pretty much the same as usual. A bit dim, maybe, and with a faint glow reflecting off the walls. It looked as if she'd accidentally left the TV on, but there was no sound coming from inside.

He turned to study her expression, raising an eyebrow. Somehow, that faint twitch at the corners of her mouth didn't bode well.

Jen bit her lip and set foot into her apartment. She motioned for Allan to be silent then distractedly slipped out of her shoes and hung up her jacket. She tiptoed almost comically towards the general direction of the couch.

Allan slipped inside after her, somehow infected by her stealth, and carefully closed the door. He craned his neck while getting rid of his shoes and coat, but could only see her head poking out from where she crouched in front of the couch that stood roughly with its back towards him. She began fumbling with something, looking focused. Allan had a sinking feeling.

On the way to her place (they'd taken the bus for a lack of car), Jen had mostly avoided talking about her alien encounter, but that hadn't stopped Allan's mind playing through the ramifications of it all.

Generally, the nature of Clarion was common knowledge. Most people seemed to accept that the planet had to be inhabited by a reasonably advanced species, and that, even if they turned out to be hostile at some point, they would have to abide by the same rules of physics as everyone else and could therefore never 'catch Earth by surprise', so to speak. He didn't have to be a physicist to see reason behind that statement.

Now though, apparently one of them was here on Earth, and on top of it by a means Allan would've put into the realm of science fiction.

Back at the café, his inner eight-year-old had been excited by the thought of an actual alien on Earth, and he'd been disappointed that he wouldn't get to see the real thing for himself. During the ride, though, apparently his adult mind had taken over again and all he could feel was relieved that Jen wouldn't have to deal with a situation as complicated as this.

Now that he was apparently on the verge of meeting the thing, all he could think of, though, was: 'oh crap'. Couldn't he feel curious instead of anxious right now?

Allan finally approached the couch and hesitantly peered across the its backrest. He felt his mouth drop open.

"Holy shit," he mouthed, staring. Jen's description had been bizarrely accurate and inaccurate at the same time: The thing sleeping on the couch was a short, furry creature with fundamentally human physique and apparently nothing to wear aside from a pair of socks.

It also smelled faintly of Jen's shampoo.

She pried a TV remote from its fingers, making it stir, and Allan flinched when a pack of chips in its other hand crackled about as loud as a thunderstorm in the middle of the night. Gladly, the noise wasn't enough to wake it up.

"_Holy shit_," he whispered again.

Jen switched off the TV, got up, and ushered Allan into the kitchen. He dumbfoundedly stepped inside and she slid the door closed behind them, exhaling deeply.

"Guess I've been worried for nothing," she said, apparently losing all tension. Allan felt pretty much the opposite.

"Jen. _Jen_, this is crazy," he hissed, barely keeping himself from grabbing her by the shoulders. "You can't have that thing living in your apartment."

"W—What?" She blinked, frowned, then rolled her eyes. "Oh, jeez, I knew it had gone too well at the café. He's a 'he' by the way. Not a thing."

"It was all _hypothetical_ back there!" He tried hard not to raise his voice.

Jen groaned.

"I just—I," Allan grasped for words. "It's _dangerous_." He deflated.

"Right." Jen shook her head, pushing past him towards the kitchen counter. "Want some tea while you decide just how 'dangerous' it is?"

"No… I think I need a beer after that."

"Help yourself," she said without turning from the sink.

Allan eyed her carefully as he reached for the fridge. He picked a bottle, opened it, then sat down sideways on one of the chairs by the tiny kitchen table she had her back to. He quietly took a sip.

"Someone has to be looking for him," he said after a while.

"Don't think so." She began heating up some water.

"Okay. Perhaps not at the moment. But if someone does find him here— _If_ —then you're the one who's going to be directly involved. You can't want that. This doesn't look like a situation that's going to be handled under some kind of… 'illegal immigration' law." Man, he wasn't even sure whether he could convince _himself_ with that. But this was one of those things that just _had_ to go wrong, wasn't it? Especially if Jen didn't even try to hide the guy here. Apparently 'he' could come and go as he pleased.

"How did he even get back into the apartment?" Allan asked.

"I left the roof window open," Jen said, apparently unconcerned. She watched as the water began to boil, then poured it into a tea pot she'd prepared.

"...I'm not sure that was the answer I wanted to hear."

Jen finally turned to look at him and sighed. "Can you just be glad with me that nothing's happened to him?"

"I can. I just don't want you to be in this sort of trouble."

"What 'trouble', exactly?"

"…I don't know yet. I just get the feeling we're missing the bigger picture."

Jen's features softened. "Look, I… I've been through the exact same thoughts, and I just don't think there _is_ a 'bigger picture'."

"Noted. But you also said that you have no means to talk to him, so how can you know for sure?"

"I've been trying to teach him English."

Allan blinked. "I… see," he said hesitantly. "Elaborate."

On second thought, it wasn't much of a surprise. One of her subjects was English, after all.

"…Well, it's not exactly organized," she said. "But I think it could go somewhere. Wanna see the notes we made?"

"I guess?"

Jen seemed to relax again, sounding surprised. "Oh," she said. "Cool."

Allan cringed inwardly. This apparent alien situation seemed to have gotten to her in a way that made her a lot more enthusiastic than it made her careful. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew that this was the perfect moment to be supportive (never mind the fact that he also couldn't quite ignore his curiosity), but he couldn't help but feel that it was a horribly bad idea to get oneself involved in something as potentially life-changing as this. Some things could just get really complicated really fast—and this was one of those.

Jen walked past him to the kitchen door and slid it open. Instead of stepping through she paused in the open doorway, tilting her head. "You're up?" she asked into the darkened living room. "Why didn't you say something?"

From inside came a slightly unsure, "Uh."

Allan's neck prickled. It hadn't really been a word, but it had still sounded a lot more human than he'd anticipated.

"Want some tea?" Jen asked into the room much like she'd asked Allan before.

"Yeah, thanks," the voice said, unnervingly sounding even more natural this time. There was the sound of socked feet on wooden floor and Allan braced himself, tearing his hand away from the beer bottle's label that he'd unconsciously been scraping at. He straightened in his seat.

Jen returned to the counter, making room for her alien to come in. He stepped into the kitchen, idly running a hand through a patch of tan fur on his chest and swishing a couple of chips crumbs to the floor. He eyed them briefly, apparently having little remorse, then straightened to face Allan with a look between surprise and curiosity.

…How on Earth had Jen managed _not_ to liken the thing to a cartoon character? To call his eyes 'large' had been a massive understatement. Also, he was _blue_ of all colors.

Then again he also looked unsettlingly alive and _solid_, which managed to wipe the thought from Allan's mind almost as quickly as it had come.

They both simultaneously glanced at Jen for support. She'd meanwhile begun pouring two steaming cups of tea and was essentially leaving Allan and the alien alone in the room. It was kind of disconcerting.

The other seemed to gather his wits first. He extended a hand.

"Hey. I'm Sonic. Nice to meet you," he said.

Allan faltered. "Wh—What?" Aside from a bit of a sing-song accent, that introduction had been absolutely flawless. …'_Trying_ to teach him English'. _My ass._

'Sonic' cocked his head, then let his hand drop, glancing at Jen again. »I totally screwed that up, didn't I?« he said in a language Allan didn't recognize.

Jen turned, shaking her head. "Nah, you were perfect. It's this dork here who doesn't know how to deal with a proper introduction."

"Hey," Allan protested. "You didn't have to leave me on my own here in the first place."

Jen gave him a flat look.

"Alright, whatever." Allan ran a hand through his hair, then rubbed it against his thigh before holding it out to Sonic who'd been looking back and forth between the two. "Sorry," Allan said, clearing his voice. Sonic faced him again. "I'm Allan. It's… nice to meet you, too, I guess."

Sonic hesitated for a moment, then took Allan's hand with a curt nod. The handshake felt disappointingly ordinary.

Allan hummed as they both let go again. "I thought you two couldn't talk?"

"Yeah, well. This is about as far as it goes. We just shot our bolt."

"Wasn't half bad though. Can he say anything else?" he asked, briefly facing Sonic again.

Jen gasped with mock exasperation. "Don't tell me you've gotten curious now!"

Allan chuckled. "Nope, this is still perfectly unreasonable."

She rolled her eyes and turned to reach for something between outer wall and counter. It was a foldable bar stool she'd gotten as a particularly random birthday present, and Allan reached over to help her unfold the thing. Apparently it had the perfect height for someone like Sonic to sit by the table. Sonic scaled the stool with unexpected agility.

Jen handed him a steaming cup and sat down across from Allan. Sonic held the cup close for a moment, then apparently decided it was still too hot and set it back down.

"I'm serious, though," Allan said. "How long do you plan on keeping this up?"

Jen took a breath. "As long as it takes?"

"As long as what takes?" Allan asked, shooting Sonic a glance. Was that introduction really all he understood? It seemed as if he tried to follow the conversation, but he either didn't show any emotion, or simply genuinely didn't understand anything.

"I don't know," Jen said. "Until he's found a way back? Until his English is good enough so he can get out of trouble on his own? I can't just kick him out now."

"Why not? You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Neither do you."

Allan felt his face crumple into a frown, and he had to avert his eyes from the severe look she was giving him. She had a point, of course, but—

"Would you seriously want to hand him over to… whoever is even in charge of something like this?" she added. "What do you think they'd do? Give him a ride home?"

Her expression softened the moment he looked up at her again. Sonic frowned in concentration, apparently trying to read the two.

Allan shook his head. "No." Of course he wouldn't. But she couldn't just start dealing in extremes. There had to be middle ground somewhere.

Jen stopped halfway leaning back into her seat again when he continued: "But that doesn't mean you have to insist on keeping him here either. He already seems to take some liberties regarding your hospitality, anyway, apparently." Allan thumbed at Sonic.

Her gaze followed his gesture and she arched both eyebrows. "Oh, right. About that—"

Sonic had picked up his cup and took a sip with the grace of a Chinese noodle connoisseur. He blinked, slightly surprised, when he noticed Jen's expression.

"Care telling me where you've been?" she asked. "Three days and I'm worried sick. I thought you'd gotten caught or something."

Sonic opened his mouth as if to answer, then closed it again, lips forming a line.

Jen let out a quiet groan then tried again: "Where did you go?" she asked, a bit more slowly and emphasizing her words with a few gestures.

Recognition lit in his eyes and he set down his cup, leaping off the chair in one fluid motion. Allan looked after him as he disappeared into the living room.

"You don't happen to understand his language?" Jen asked.

"That bit from before?" Allan said, turning to face her again. "No. Sounded like someone tried to blend Japanese with Russian."

Jen looked skeptical. "If you say so…"

Allan twisted in his seat again, peering through the open doorway. Sonic had switched on the bathroom lights and picked through the pockets of an apparently discarded pair of pants that clearly looked his size.

"…Why isn't he wearing those pants?" Allan asked carefully.

"Don't ask me." Jen shrugged. "He only seems to care about his shoes."

"And it doesn't bother you that he sits on your stuff with his naked butt…?"

Jen cringed slightly. "I—Well, he also cares a lot about my shower, so I kinda stopped thinking about it?" She shrugged, a slightly desperate smile on her lips.

Allan sat up straight again. "You let him use your bathroom?"

"What do you think is the alternative?"

"Point," he said.

Sonic returned with a folded and slightly rumpled piece of paper and dropped it on the table. He scaled the bar stool without even tipping it and picked up his cup again.

The paper looked like a brochure of some sort and Jen unfolded the creaking thing carefully. It revealed to be a map and tourist guide of Yellowstone National Park. A location apart from the usual travel paths was marked with a circle and a short note in foreign letters. She flipped the map over a couple of times with growing confusion.

"Wait a minute—" She looked at Sonic who calmly drank his tea (slightly less audibly this time). "Are you trying to tell me that you went from here to Yellowstone and back in three days? Dude, that's, like, 2000 miles!" Jen emphasized her words with appropriate gestures again, talking a bit slower than usual. It seemed to work. Sonic shrugged, flashing a fanged (and somewhat smug looking) grin.

"I go fast," he said.

Jen blurted out a disbelieving laugh. "Damn right you gotta 'go fast'. Did you hitch a ride or what?"

Sonic shrugged again, slurping tea. Some questions were apparently too complicated.

"Maybe he wasn't actually there and just found the map lying around somewhere?" Allan suggested.

"Nah. He wouldn't mark something on a map without— _Ohh_, I'm an idiot." Jen said, halfway burying her head in her arm. "We've been trying to locate more of those teleport poles he supposedly came here with, and this was the first one that came up that he hadn't already been to. I just never thought he'd actually _go_ there. Look!"

Jen showed the map to Allan who'd meanwhile begun to worry about forever living with a grimace from raising and knitting his eyebrows so much.

"…Teleport poles." He repeated slowly.

"Yeah. The thing I told you about," Jen said, then faced Sonic again, pointing at the map. "There's a… _Star Post_ there, right?"

He nodded.

"Did it work?" She gestured.

"No," he said, not sounding particularly concerned.

Allan leaned his back against the wall, eying Sonic suspiciously. "Is he taking this seriously?" He asked.

Jen rubbed her face before watching Sonic herself. "Well, he came back. So I think he's at least taking _me_ seriously."

"Whatever you say…" Allan said.

Sonic had finished his tea and was now glancing out of the narrow kitchen window, apparently done with the conversation. It was already dark out, though, and Allan couldn't imagine there was much for him to see. Unfortunately, it reminded him of the time, and now he was stuck between feeling relieved about having to leave early, and feeling bad about both at the same time. At least he'd already told Jen about his schedule earlier.

She seemed to read his mind. "So, how seriously are you gonna take your Ph.D. today?" she asked.

Allan chuckled. "I actually have to hand in an abstract until tomorrow."

She raised an eyebrow, looking mock-serious. "And you're still here? Since when are _you_ waiting til the last minute?"

"Since I thought it was more important meeting up with a friend."

Jen gave him an odd look, then smiled, entirely infectious.

"Gotcha," she said. "See you in a few then?"

He nodded, getting up and quietly setting the chair back underneath the table. "Don't forget your own schedule until then," he said, nodding his head at Sonic who'd briefly acknowledged that Allan had gotten up, then apparently returned to being lost in thought.

"Don't worry," she laughed. "I get plenty enough time in between our English-sessions. He has the attention span of a goldfish with everything that's not food…"

Allan tried not to frown. "Don't keep him around for too long, okay?"

"We'll see how long he keeps being interested," Jen mused.

Allan sighed. "Alright. But just—Be careful until then."


	11. Chapter 11: I've Got the Bear Spray

**Chapter 11: I've Got the Bear Spray!**

He really was the biggest jackass in the entire universe.

Pine forests. Pine forests frickin' _everywhere_. But hey, no pressure, let's run through as fast as possible, because there couldn't possibly be any unforeseen obstacles when you had trees standing around every two steps or so.

Why'd he have to end up on a planet without _rings_?

Today was the second day of trudging his way back to the only place Sonic knew of after spending almost five weeks on _Earth_, as they called it—and it already took _forever_. The day before, he'd rather abruptly ended his run courtesy of a branch sticking out from behind a bush or something. He couldn't even remember how it happened. He only knew that he hadn't seen it coming. And while the impact had shattered the branch like a sheet of ice hitting the ground, it had still left a multilayered bruise on his chest. Judging by how it felt as if he'd now gotten a piece of glass stuck in his lungs, it also meant he now had at least one or two bruised ribs in there. Just peachy.

He was usually pretty resilient when he was in the Flow. It had something to do with the way _Chaos_ worked in his body. Whenever he went at crazy speeds, it was as if some kind of invisible armor protected him—otherwise he'd probably need a padded suit wherever he went. Occasionally though, his mind went off-track enough to kick him out. That's when stuff like this happened. That's when you had a _ring_.

But _no_, this planet had frickin' nothing.

…Though, to be fair, even if there were any, he probably wouldn't have had one in the first place… He usually didn't have one during most of his stunts on Mobius, either. If there were a bunch of winding buildings, he wanted to scale them now, not four hours later. If he saw a group picking on someone else, they also never politely waited until he'd found a ring to punch them safely.

One time he'd gone out of his way to get one, then lost it stubbing his toe when doing the run-up for the actual jump he wanted to make. Of course, he'd gone and done it anyway. Made it too.

Then he'd bruised his back so hard he couldn't sit for two weeks.

Turned out, most of the time, doing things fresh was better than doing them safe.

So, when it came to that, being on Earth wasn't much of a difference…, but that he hadn't even found a single ring by now, was still odd. Jen hadn't known what he was talking about either.

…Not that the latter didn't happen on a daily basis, anyway, but hey.

Also, apparently, no one here seemed to have what people tended to call 'powers', or rather, a 'Flow' strong enough for your body to utilize Chaos energy on a much more effective level than most others. Chaos existed here. He felt it (otherwise he'd be in a lot more trouble than he already was…). But if _humans_ could, too, they apparently couldn't do anything with it.

But he wasn't going to find out more about that anytime soon, since it was going to take _forever_ to get out of this forest at the pace he was currently going.

He hadn't even been out in the woods for an hour before he'd smacked his chest into a jutting piece of wood two days ago. It was supposed to be a half-day trip just checking out more of the area. Now it turned out that the distance he could cover in an hour of mostly easy jogging was the kind of distance 'normal' people turned into a four-day hike… And if he didn't heal up in that time to run normally again, those four days of hiking meant four days of not having anything decent to eat around. Sonic hadn't expected to be in that kind of situation anytime soon again.

Okay, he'd gotten at least somewhat lucky this time. The morning before, he'd stumbled upon a lonely, weather-worn shack that someone had stored a bunch of food cans in. They looked as if they'd been there for ages, so he'd decided to stuff himself—only whoever put them there had forgotten to also put something to _open_ those cans with into the shack, and the one time he could've used the knife he'd kept from back at the island, he'd decided not to wear his pants and had no place to put it. So he'd ended up trying to open one with a rock, creating a barely edible, tomato-y mess. His gloves still looked as if he'd slaughtered something—which, depending on the something, might have been the preferable alternative…

Anyway. He'd briefly considered simply resting up at the shack for a while, but then he'd already gotten bored and instead grabbed one of the remaining cans in each hand and continued on the long way back. Now it was early morning the next day, with the kind of crisp air that made your breath condense, and he still hadn't found a way to safely open the food he'd found. At this point he didn't even care anymore whether the stuff he'd gotten turned out to be pet food or just a sauce of some kind as long as it managed to not make him sick again. Bruised ribs _and_ an upset stomach? No, thanks. It was bad enough that he had to drink from streams out here.

The pine forest he was trudging through seemed to lighten some ways to his right, indicating that he'd probably reached another lake. Not the worst spot to try and give his gloves another rinse.

Sonic took a turn towards the supposed lake then caught a glimpse of blue in one of the trees above. It appeared to be a pouch hanging from a string that was taut across a branch, then tied to another one lower down at about human chest height.

He didn't have a lick of knowledge about wilderness survival, but _this_ was something he'd seen before: a way of keeping small animals away from your food and from your camp.

Sonic grinned. Good thing he wasn't an animal.

…Unfortunately, compared to the guys here, he was clearly fitting the 'small' part.

He approached the branch where the bag was fastened and gazed up at the knot a good way above his head. His lips formed into a line.

Climbing was decidedly out of the question right now.

He dropped the two cans and stretched to reach the knot, steadying himself with one hand against the trunk. His chest felt as if his ribs had grown fur and he was trying to pull them out from a jar of glue. Sonic drew his arm back with a stifled grunt, gaze falling on the two cans sitting beside him. Maybe now they were finally good for something.

He repositioned the cans on the ground and stepped on top of them, just barely getting his hands on the knot above while standing on his toes.

There was a rustle in the woods behind, making him turn. The foliage-obscured shape of a person approached, and Sonic reflexively slipped behind the trunk, picking up the two cans in one swift motion and regretting it the same moment. Up to this point he'd had plenty of time thinking about what _other_ injuries he could've gotten instead, deciding that he'd gotten off easy by comparison. But, _damn_. Did it have to sting this much?

He drew a few shallow breaths until the pain subsided then dared to peek out from behind the trunk. The guy wasn't coming to get his bag _now_, was he? Sonic had yet to encounter a species with worse timing…

The person in question was a bearded guy wearing a rumpled t-shirt, a pair of shorts, and a pair of big untied boots—not exactly weather-appropriate by human standards, for all Sonic had learned by now (which included his own lack of appropriate attire, apparently).

Instead of going for the bag, the man stepped up to a tree, pulled down his shorts and took a leak.

Sonic grimaced, drawing back behind the tree and already working to get this particular mental image banished from his mind. He suddenly appreciated those guys wearing clothes all the time a _lot_ more.

He waited for the obvious noise to fade, then took another peek. The guy had stepped away from the tree (shorts back on), yawned, then apparently began to return to where he had come from.

Now what?

Sonic really wanted to know what that pouch above was holding. But at this point he definitely wasn't fit enough for a swift retreat in case another one of them showed up—even though the guy had looked as if he was heading straight back into his tent, so the whole camp was probably still asleep. Plus, those weren't some abandoned cans in a shack, and it wasn't like he was suddenly okay with taking other people's food. He'd thought of maybe taking one thing and then putting the pouch back to where it had been, but… maybe he had to try another approach today. He was gonna _ask_.

Sonic grabbed both of the cans and began heading in the general direction the guy had disappeared to, trying to collect his thoughts on the English words he'd managed to get into his head up to this point. Even with Jen's help, it felt as if he'd added only about three more words to his vocabulary. He couldn't remember it being that difficult learning the local tongue when he moved from South Island to Emerald Hill back when he was a kid. But then he couldn't remember much of anything from that time anyway.

It'd have to do.

The forest opened up to a rocky clearing that gave way to a wide view across an enormous lake surrounded by mountains and even more forest. The sun was beginning to creep up from behind those mountains, giving the lake a turquoise shine but not doing much for the temperature yet. Seeing it was still a good thing though, because keeping your sense of direction while going at turtle-speed was somehow a lot more difficult than at his usual pace. Nice knowing he was still on track.

In the clearing, two tents, or rather tarps, had been set up left and right with a good distance between them. A small, cleaned up fire pit sat in the middle. No one seemed to be awake yet (or, anymore…).

Sonic got into a crouch in the relative shade of the surrounding foliage, trying to glance underneath the two tarps. The view into the left one was blocked by a huge log, apparently making up the head end of it. Its lower end pointed towards the lake and had at least one pair of bedrolled legs showing. Underneath the other tarp the guy from before lay snoring again.

Sonic stood again, carefully rolling his shoulders. Waking one of them up and then trying to get a pathetically worded question out while they tried to stop panicking in a much more cleverly worded way, didn't seem like the best course of action anymore. He was going to let them wake up on their own and check the pouch from before in the meantime.

He turned around to head back then noticed something glinting by the fireplace. It looked like cutlery on second glance. Sonic's gaze automatically fell on the two cans still in his hands.

Well. It was slightly better than taking their stuff. Maybe this time he'd manage to come across as someone 'borrowing'.

...Why hadn't he asked Jen for that word yet?

Hopefully, those campers would figure it out on their own if he just stayed there quietly, looking harmless and all.

He walked over, carefully placed the two cans on the stone ground beside the fireplace and picked up what was apparently an entire set of cutlery, stacked together inside a short metal sleeve that had a small blade worked into it. Sonic recognized a can-opener when he saw one.

"Huh." He let out the noise in surprise then hesitated for a moment, startled by the loudness of his own voice. Someone stirred underneath the left tarp and Sonic suppressed a groan, crouching and taking apart the cutlery anyway. He was pretty sure most of those guys did understand at some point that he was just another person like them (only slightly shorter and furrier…), so maybe if they saw him using a tool these three would get to that point a bit faster than average, letting him be for a time.

Sonic set the can-opening knife to the lid of the can that looked as if it had some kind of stew in it and began poking a first hole into it. The faded label had a spoon on it, too, so chances for it being pet food were nicely low.

From the left tarp came a hushed voice. "_Honey_. Honey, wake up! There's an animal in our camp."

Someone else seemed to stir. Sonic kept concentrating on the can, slightly distracted by the fact that he thought he'd heard the word 'animal' in that sentence. How hard could it be for those guys to recognize the difference? When he'd first seen a human his first thought hadn't been, 'oh yeah, this gotta be a really tall slug', either. He rolled his eyes.

After some quiet grumbling, the voice whispered again. "You have to _do_ something!" It was the kind of tone someone used when they wanted something done but clearly didn't want to do it themselves. He probably still had some time left.

"…'S it a bear?" came a barely audible, tired male voice. "The guide said we should ignore other wildlife."

"It's paws look all _bloody_!" The other voice hissed. "What if it has _killed_ the guide?"

"Well then I probably _shouldn't_ go out there and confront it, should I?"

"William!"

Sonic willed himself to ignore the voices (he only recognized about one word per sentence anyway) and kept cutting into the can's lid, eventually lifting it. The brown, chunky goop inside smelled over-spiced, but at least it didn't smell spoiled. Sonic picked up the fork, stirred and picked out what looked like a piece of sausage. He carefully took a bite. Hopefully the stuff was pre-cooked. A rustling drew his attention away again.

A slim, gray-haired man in tights came out crawling from underneath the left tarp, heading towards the lake and apparently trying his best to be stealthy. It was the kind of moment reserved for comments like, 'Dude, you're as tall as a bus and wearing lavender, I can see you,' but one, the guy wouldn't understand him anyway, and two, any time not talking was eating time, which was clearly more important right now.

Said dude had slipped into a depression hidden behind a bunch of boulders facing the water, then after a moment poked his neatly moustachioed head out at the other end of the clearing close to the second tarp where the man from before lay sleeping. Mustache-man crawled behind it, trying hard to pretend that Sonic hadn't noticed him already.

The bearded guy started moving under the tarp, facing the other one first. A quiet discussion ensued. Then he turned in his bedroll, facing Sonic who was midway putting a piece of potato into his mouth. Sonic shrugged and kept eating.

"Oh, shit." Beard hissed.

…How come you always memorized the curse-words first?

"I told you to get your firearm," Stache whispered.

"And I told you there is no firearm." A pause. "_Did you leave the used cutlery outside?_"

"I rinsed it!"

Beard facepalmed. Then he drew his hand down his face with a huff. "Great." He faced Stache again, who still crouched there poised to pounce. "Keep still and hush. I'll handle it."

He untangled himself from his bedroll, still in the same shorts as before, and slipped into his untied boots, getting out of the tarp. He kept standing beside it for a moment, fists resting on his hips, and on his face the kind of crumpled look of a person clearly out of their depth.

Sonic gave him a salute with his fork, earning a series of non-plussed blinks, then he chucked another piece of sausage into his mouth. Language-wise, he was still an eternity away from 'disarming quip'-territory, so he'd just wait what the guys would do. They'd eventually do _something_, that much was sure. In the meantime he could get his fill of that stew or whatever it was without having to gobble it down like a starved duck.

The man began to approach.

To Sonic's left, a third person poked her head (and razor-sharp nose) out from under the tarp, still mostly entangled in bedroll. Her once-neat hairdo had slightly suffered during the night, but she still looked oddly excited, in equal parts rummaging and trying not to lose sight of him.

"What kind of animal is this?" she asked Beard in a hushed voice as if Sonic hadn't already noticed any of them.

Beard hushed her by lifting a finger. Maybe he was the guide of the group. Behind his tarp, Stache rose to his feet, now holding a dangerous looking yellow spray can in both hands. He seemed to wait for some kind of command.

Well, as long as the guide looked as if he had his clients in order, there was no need for a sudden, rib-jarring dash back into the woods, at least.

Beard took a few careful steps closer, then seemed to feel safe enough to slowly crouch down in front of him. Apparently, quiet, non-hostile eating, did work as communication for _some_ people, after all. But the way the guy was inspecting him (and the cans, oddly), Sonic wondered whether he'd actually smeared his entire face with sauce by now.

'This stuff is almost tolerable,' he wanted to say to break the tension. But heck if he had the words.

"What _are_ you?" the guy said as if he didn't want the other two to hear.

Sonic swallowed his forkful of what appeared to be beans, then eyed the guy, tapping the fork to his lips and pretending to think on the question he'd miraculously understood. There was no way he would give a truthful answer to that.

"I'm me," Sonic said eventually, switching his fork for the spoon that came with the cutlery set lying beside the can to get the more saucy parts out.

The guy drew in air through his teeth (and beard), swaying a bit on his toes. Then he leaned in a bit closer.

"Do you… live in these woods?" he asked quietly (and with a twitch of doubt on his face).

_Oooh yes_, the guy was using words Sonic _knew_. It was almost fun that way.

But: "No," Sonic said, shaking his head and almost having to stifle a laugh. Had all the other people he'd met been asking the same absurd stuff?

Now the guy looked positively amazed. Hoo boy.

Before Beard could ask anything else though, the woman still in the tent addressed her creeping up tent-mate in the same hushed voice as before. "Did you hear that, William. It's like Margaret's parrot."

Sonic's understanding skills came to an abrupt end.

Beard gave her a bewildered look that involved even more blinking than before.

…Which probably meant Sonic hadn't missed anything important.

After some more rummaging, the woman finally produced what clearly looked like a camera and began pushing a few buttons. It came to life with a small beep.

Sonic rose to his feet, slightly startling the guide. So far he hadn't actively cared about whether anyone snapped a picture of him, but now that he spent most of his time at Jen's place, he couldn't have photos of him pop up everywhere. Especially when he wasn't really _that_ far out.

He neatly stepped over to the still fumbling woman, spoon between his teeth, and calmly took the camera from her hands. Her wide-eyed gaze rested on him when he returned to his spot, finding Stache squared up behind the guide who'd stuck his arm out in a warding gesture, all three now temporarily frozen watching him. Sonic set the camera next to him on the ground and began spooning the rest of the food. He probably should've heated the stuff beforehand…

On the other hand, now was probably a good time to leave this lousy rest and get out of the camp while he still had their confusion on his side.

As if on cue, Stache readied the bottle. "I've got the bear spray, step aside."

Sonic gave him a stare. The bear _what_…?

If the guy had a hat he'd almost look like an elderly version of that bow-wielding dude Sonic had seen on TV a couple of days ago. Unfortunately, something told him that the thing _this_ guy was wielding, wasn't a can of bear _deodorant_.

Beard rose to his feet, palms outstretched in a now slightly panicky calming gesture. "No, no, wait. Your wife is right." He licked his lips while the woman perked up. "This is a rare species of… _spined raccoon_. You'll just rile it up with the spray."

The woman nodded eagerly, but Stache looked more than skeptical. Beard gave Sonic a brief look that seemed to say, 'hey, how was that?'. Unfortunately Sonic's English expertise had taken a vacation at about the second 'no'. He definitely had to get better at this.

…But what else was new?

Beard continued, apparently still trying to talk the guy down. "So… as I said, don't use the spray. These _raccoons_ like gleaming things. One second you're not looking then your tarp comes down on you because the pegs are gone… I'm sure I can lure it away."

Stache ground his teeth, still holding the can at the ready in case something went wrong. The woman bit her lip, looking somewhere stuck between frightened, elated, and (probably) really needing to pee.

Beard approached again and carefully took the pieces of the cutlery Sonic wasn't currently using. He waved them in the air at about Sonic's eye level, then began to retreat towards the edge of the clearing.

"Come on. You're not supposed to be here…"

…Wait.

Sonic stared at the guy dumbfounded for a moment before his brain began to catch up. Getting lead out of the camp without catching a load of whatever that spray was (and then having to dunk the guy into the lake while trying not to aggravate a chest feeling full of shards) did seem like a nice idea. Shame they'd probably want their cutlery back.

He grabbed the fork, spoon, and the still closed can anyway and followed, hesitant at first, then on a somewhat normal pace when they'd crossed the edge of the woods and were more or less out of sight. When they were apparently also out of hearing range, Beard stopped, fingers wringing around his share of the silverware.

"Okay," he began. "I have no idea how I managed to get the most _ridiculous_ group members this time, but you're obviously not a raccoon. Help me understand what's going on!"

...'understand what's going on'...?

"Yeah…" Sonic said. That'd be nice for a change.

Beard blinked. "What?" He crouched to get at about eye-level with Sonic. "I'm sure you understood me before. Don't play dumb," he said, then added under his breath: "Oh god, if that woman had been right about the parrot…" He rubbed his face and beard.

Sonic scratched the back of his ear. He'd at least understood that first sentence there, hadn't he? Come on, come on, a reply couldn't be that hard…

"I, uh, can't… English," he said, letting his arm drop again and trying hard not to groan. This was somehow worse than not having a clue whatsoever.

The guy arched both eyebrows then looked sideways, mumbling and rubbing his beard some more.

"Okay, just to make sure." Beard faced him again, repeating a question from before, slightly slower this time: "Do you live in these woods?" He gestured a bit which was actually helpful, but Sonic _had_ understood this particular question earlier.

"No," he repeated, trying to sound convincing.

The guy nodded then pointed at the can in Sonic's hand. "Where did you find these?" Some more gesturing.

"Uhm…" Sonic resisted hiding the can behind his back, apparently failing to look casual. The guy held up his hands in defense.

"Keep it. I don't care. I just need to know where you got it." He picked up a twig and made a few sketches into the ground. "Apparently there's someone out here playing hermit or some such. They're leaving traps and stuff and empty cans like these all over the place, and it's a danger to humans and… animals as well…" He trailed off, inspecting Sonic once more then shook his head. "So, where did you get these?" he asked again slowly.

If there was one thing Sonic had gotten good at (that clearly wasn't _English_), it was deciphering crude drawings… He took the twig, crouched, and sketched out the lake and the camp they'd come from. Then he traced a dotted line into the general direction he remembered the hut to be. He added it to the sketch. "One day walk, I guess," he said.

Beard eyed the lines with arched brows. "Huh," he said. "Thanks." He seemed to internally map it to his own knowledge of the area.

Sonic got back to his feet, stifling a groan when the motion made his chest expand. He tenderly rubbed his side.

"...Are you okay?" the guy asked. "Well. Aside from being… _this_…," he added mumbling.

"No," Sonic gave him a lopsided grin. "But it's okay," he said. He'd survive, obviously.

Beard ran his fingers through his beard again. Maybe having the thing was the same as having chest-fluff…

"…If you need help, I can—"

"_Ross!_"

They both turned their head towards the moustachioed voice from the general direction of the camp.

Beard growled. "Oh, for f—"

"—You're taking long, I'm coming for help." the voice called, accompanied by the noise of someone thoughtlessly trudging through the woods. A flash of yellow poked out through the foliage.

"Here," Beard handed Sonic the remaining cutlery and rosetose to his feet. "Take it. Go." He waved his hand urgently. "I'll deal with that moron over there."

Sonic eyed the cutlery for a moment, then grabbed it. "Thanks," he said, then took off into the woods at the fastest pace someone trying not to breathe could manage…

#

Allan stepped into Jen's apartment, closing the door after him. She stood at the other end of the short corridor, one shoulder resting against the wall and hands in her pockets, watching him get out of his coat.

"Sorry, I'm late," he said, slipping out of his shoes as well. "But I needed to get the last of the probes while they still had the machine at the lab. Damned thing took forever." He broke off, trying to glance past her. The TV was on. Allan lowered his voice. "He's here?"

Jen shrugged. "You can't avoid him forever."

Allan grimaced. It had been about three weeks of him and her only occasionally meeting at the café, and he'd caught himself a couple of times feeling far too glad for being exceptionally busy at the time. Today he'd expected having Jen for himself—but no such luck, apparently.

She seemed to catch the look on his face. "Sorry. I wanted to send him out, but I think he's got a bruised rib or something. Not sure what to do. Think I could give him painkillers?"

It was the kind of question Allan automatically put far more thought into than was rightfully necessary. Also, this was one of the numerous situations in which its implications brought up all sorts of issues he hadn't previously considered.  
If Sonic really was from another planet, there was no easy way to tell how his organism might react to common Earth substances. There was also no way to tell whether he might be receptive to, or actually carrying, alien diseases. The list of reasons that made Allan wary of Jen having Sonic around instantly got longer.

"You could try something based on acetylsalicylic acid," he suggested eventually. "The cells of a lot of vertebrates carry the enzyme it affects, so it might just work on him, too. But better go with a dosage for children first."

Jen looked oddly happy at that. "Hey, cool. Thanks."

"…What?" Allan asked, suspicious.

"Kinda expected you'd tell me to let him suffer."

"Whatever gets him out of your hair first." He chuckled. "What happened, anyway? Did he get into a fight or something?"

"Er, no. Ran into a jutting branch, apparently."

Allan arched an eyebrow. That definitely was a better alternative to Sonic drawing unnecessary attention, but—

"Don't ask me," Jen said, shrugging again. "Look at the bright side." She twisted her upper body to face the couch, raising her voice just barely. "He's finally got his butt on my couch for long enough to actually _learn_ something."

From said couch came an indignant »Hey,« then Sonic emerged with a somewhat amused look on his face, peeking across the backrest. "I'm _good_," he said.

Jen snorted. "You wish!"

Allan was quiet. It had bothered him when he first heard Sonic talk, but this time it seemed downright bizarre. It was one thing to have a bird mimic a few words, but to have a clearly non-human… _person_ reply to your questions as if it was the most normal thing? 'Surreal' was putting it mildly. He had no idea whether Jen even vaguely felt the same, but since she'd apparently taken on a personal quest to teach the guy, she had to be more impervious than he was.

Also, didn't she find it at least remotely disconcerting to have something, some_one_, so unpredictable around? Allan already felt uncomfortable around 'regular' foreigners, not knowing their customs or the things that would unwittingly tick them off, but in their case he could at least go and inform himself somewhere. He'd have to ask Jen about it at some point, but for now it'd probably only give her more fuel to talk about her alien than she already had.

Allan fished a flash drive from his coat pocket and handed it to her. "I didn't forget, by the way."

"Oh, awesome!" Jen went over to her desk and plugged it into her laptop. She plopped into her chair, waiting for the files to come up.

Sonic gave Allan a sloppy salute. "Hey Al," he said.

"…Hello." Allan managed, trying not to stare too much.

Sonic studied him for a moment, then returned to his propped up position on the couch with a quiet grunt, attention back on the TV and what appeared to be an episode of Sesame Street.

Allan took a breath, then grabbed himself a stool to sit beside Jen. She'd already started to flip through the images he brought, pausing on a schematic of what she'd started calling a 'Star Post'. It was a simple depiction, clearly designed with a museum audience in mind, but the little captions held information that Allan hadn't expected to find. Like, how they'd found a maze of struts and pistons reaching deep into the ground beneath it—some even filled with an obscure liquid—, and frail layers of semi-transparent sheets encased in the pole's spherical tip, which had brought the idea of a circuit board to his mind. He'd kept wondering whether anyone had ever (not quite as literally) dug deeper on these things, but he hadn't found anything that went beyond.

"Curious, huh?" He said.

"You could say that," Jen mused, zooming in on the image. "Shame you can't see more detail…"

From the corner of his eye, Allan couldn't quite tell whether Sonic was just _really_ focused on Grover demonstrating the concept of 'near' and 'far', or whether he was currently doing his best to keep a straight face watching Earth television. Whatever the case, Allan had for a moment felt more self-conscious than when his father had tried to deliver a 'clever' speech on his 21st birthday. He cringed inwardly.

Jen pulled him out of his thoughts. "Do you want to show him those pictures?" She asked quietly.

"Huh? Uh, n-no, maybe later."

She nodded, returning her attention to the computer, and Allan took another deep breath.

"Did you actually believe him when he told you how he got here?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

She paused for a moment. "I kinda did, yeah. But it feels good to know there's actually something to it—Oh look, a map."

He nodded. "I know. It looks as if they found these things all over the place."

Allan had been about as confused as he was relieved when he'd first seen the images. Confused, because until now he'd genuinely never heard anything relevant about those poles (and the only whack sci-fi movie he remembered that featured them had them act as some kind of power grid for a dyson sphere or something), and relieved, because it meant Jen's current housemate had possibly just multiplied his chances of finding a way home—_and_ out of her mind.

"We _so_ have to go there," she said, pointing at a location close-by. "Looks like it's in a forest. How about a hike next weekend?" Jen turned, facing Allan.

"Oh, sure, cool," he said.

»…That's gotta be impractical.« Sonic mused unintelligibly, and Allan turned to watch him again. Sonic had halfway tilted his head, watching a man and woman on screen tear at each others' clothes between kisses.

Allan grimaced. "Does he have to watch that?"

Jen turned as well. A smile tugged at her lipEmbarrassedssed?"

"No. Well, _maybe_, but there's so much weird stuff on there. Aliens shouldn't be judging us by our TV program."

"I'm pretty sure he knows what that was about."

"…Did you just imply something that I want to know?" Allan asked.

Jen shook her head, laughing. "_No_. But I don't care what he watches as long as it keeps him resting. Dude tried doing push-ups yesterday… No idea what he was thinking."

"Maybe his rib is not that bad, then?" Allan suggested.

The scene had cut to the two people waking up in bed and Sonic had apparently already lost interest, switching to another channel. He started watchinnews feedfeed about hurricane damages with a kind of underlying tension.

"Nah… he acts tough, but he gets all frustrated when he thinks I'm not looking. I hope he's halfway okay till Saturday."

Allan felt his lips press together. "...You want to take him?" he asked maybe a little too dryly. Why wasn't he surprised?

Jen studied him for a moment, frowning slightly.

"Well, I–" She sighed. "Even the closest spot looks like it's at least a half-hour drive away. I can't just hand him the map and let him walk there, can I?"

"So you wanna take him to a ride to each of these spots? Don't you think you're spending enough of your time with this already? That thesis isn't going to write itself," Allan said. Also, Sonic had managed to find a way to Yellowstone and back. Handing him a map seemed to be help enough.

She bit her lip. "What would you do? I don't think there's another way for him to get home. I could try and hook up with NASA, though."

"Very funny." Allan rolled his eyes. But she probably had a point. Anything else would just make this whole situation drag on forever—or make it even more complicated than it already was.

"Oh." Jen's face lit up with what seemed to be sudden realization. "We can—I mean, the two of us—Let's just take a trip to the nearest spot without him and I'll pick another one to take him to. There _is_ something he wants to know, but we can probably just tell him how it went afterwards, and—"

Allan shook his head, interrupting her. "It's okay. I'll survive if he comes—on one condition, though."

Jen's face grew serious, and Allan barely managed to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. "I have plenty of time tonight and I didn't plan on spending it with Fuzz over there. So, how about we head out somewhere?"

Her eyes widened, then her face seemed to try and decide between indignation and amusement. Allan felt his cheeks heat up. "U—unless you can't leave him alone here," he added quickly.

She abruptly rose to her feet, shutting the lid to her notebook. "You bet I can. Let's go!"


	12. Chapter 12: Playground (I)

**Chapter 12: Playground (I)**

Sonic sat on the couch beside Allan, who'd somehow managed to bunch up the blanket between the two of them into a miniature wall. The guy looked stiffer than an armadillo with a backache, flinching ever so slightly whenever Sonic even so much as blinked. Sonic couldn't imagine how twitchy the guy would be if he had been the one being twice the other's height.

"Alright," Jen said. "I think we can park up here. Then we hike the rest to what I hope is the right spot." She sat across from both, hovering above the printed-out museum's map and a road map beside it, both spread out on the coffee table.

The spot she'd picked out was so close, Sonic had actually passed it twice during his runs in the area. How the heck had he missed a Star Post there?

Either way there was no need to mull over the map any longer. The trip would make for a nice warm-up run after being cooped-up for so long. He'd never been around anyone this adamant about him getting some rest than Jen was. Though, admittedly, he also never had to be this careful about sneaking in and out of houses. Using the roof wasn't a sane option right now, and during the day her place was too busy to just go in and out through the front door. And during the night, Jen managed to sleep lighter than a frickin' cat, so he'd barely managed to catch a breath of fresh air during the past days. Contrary to what Mr. Awkward over there seemed to be thinking about him, Sonic was trying to stay out of sight. Around this building, at least.

Sonic leapt to his feet, ignoring the sting in his chest. Allan flinched (of course).

"Okay. I see you there." Sonic said, heading for his shoes.

"Waitwait. Where are you going? We drive there, together. The car." Jen made a steering gesture.

Sonic paused. "You, 'the car'," he managed. "I go."

"Yeah, no. Forget it." Jen shook her head. "I wanna get there today, not next week. Just because you're on painkillers now doesn't mean you're fine."

"Today." He shrugged. "I run."

"Right." Her lips formed a line.

Sonic groaned, crossing his arms. This was the kind of communication you apparently understood in every language. He knew he wasn't fully healed yet, but it wasn't the first time he'd dealt with bruised ribs. There was no need for him to get into a car of all things. If he didn't need an escort out of the house, he'd be halfway there already.

"Maybe he's afraid of your new car." Allan muttered under his breath.

Jen gave him a flat look. "Seriously? He leaves the house through the roof window. The only thing I've seen him 'afraid of' was my razor—and doing the dishes." She paused. "Besides, the car's not that bad." Jen crossed her arms.

Allan rolled his eyes. "Right. But if he's so hell bent on going alone, then why don't you let him? His problem."

Sonic's brows furrowed in concentration. He'd gotten used to hearing Jen talk and still didn't get most of what even she said. So what the heck had Allan just said about him and cars?

Jen grumbled, then turned the road map towards him, pointing at it with a pen. Sonic took a step closer.

"Alright, mister. We're about to get from here to there. This is the map's scale, and this is how often you can fit it into the road we're gonna take." She held the pen to some kind of gauge, then seemed to measure the road with it. "It's too far to walk. You're not gonna get there in time. If you want to know whether we see images near those poles, you'll have to come with us. You can do whatever breakneck thing you do after that."

Sonic shook his head. "I don't—" Chaos, how was he supposed to explain that he wouldn't have trouble keeping up with her car, running backwards? He'd tried to tell her before, but all he earned was a skeptical and amused look. He could've gone for a demonstration, but that never went well indoors, so he kinda put it off until they'd found a way to meet outside somewhere. Now they had one—only the timing sucked. He could still take off the moment after they left the house, of course, but he grudgingly had to admit that he wasn't sure how fast (and stealthily) he could make it through town at this time of the day. Running would most likely be fine by now, but he wouldn't want to do any major stunts at the moment. Could he have a world where being reasonable was as fun as being fun, please?

Sonic sighed, then nodded. "Alright," he said.

#

"Is he going to keep his head down for once?" Allan hissed.

Sonic's eyes briefly met with Jen's in the rear mirror when she apparently tried to relay Allan's complaint by pursing her lips. But Sonic ignored her for now, watching the passing city streets. Seeing things from the ground and in broad daylight was a whole new perspective. Usually he either watched from above or snuck around at night. From down here though, everything seemed way more lively—despite him sitting in a car of all things.

A kid waiting by a bus stop stared at him as they passed. Sonic waved.

Allan buried his face in both hands, groaning. "I bet half the city got your number down by now."

Jen rolled her eyes. "Sonic, could you get your head down before Allan goes into cardiac arrest, please?"

She'd used way too many words for someone sounding perfectly calm.

And, she was probably right. If he'd wanted to draw attention, he wouldn't be in here.

Sonic puffed a breath, then laid down on his back. He closed his eyes for a while.

Allan seemed to prepare a comment but got interrupted by Jen before he could actually say it out loud: "If you start talking about seatbelts now, you're going to share the back seat with him."

It was quiet after that.

#

They made it to some road through the woods that Sonic didn't bother to sit up for. This was the kind of place he could hang out all day. Nothing new around here.

Jen and Allan had been quietly fussing about something for most of the ride, and Sonic had futilely tried to catch their words. Now he was just bored, dozing halfway. This was taking at least ten times as long as if he'd gone on foot.

The passenger seat creaked and Sonic cracked one eye open to find Allan halfway turned to face him.

"Do you have cars?" Allan asked somewhat stiffly.

Jen groaned.

Had he heard that right?

"No?" Sonic said. What would he need a car for?

"Ah." Allan seemed kind of pleased with himself. He cast Jen a smug glance.

Sonic could sense Jen rolling her eyes even from the backseat.

"What he obviously wants to know, is whether there are cars where you come from. On Mobius," she said.

"Huh?" Sonic blinked. "Sure." He propped himself up on his elbows but instantly ran out of ideas how to voice anything else. What was it about him and cars today? And how long was it gonna take until he could at least talk about everyday stuff? Both of this wasn't going anywhere near fast enough.

Jen had started smirking, slowly shaking her head, and Allan kept looking back and forth between the two. "Y'know it's not easy to imagine a place where cars have a higher priority than pants. Just saying."

He slid back into his seat, face growing serious as he looked at the road ahead. "What's up with that guy?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Jen said.

Sonic felt the car slow but not stop. He propped himself up between the two front seats, prompting a flinch from Allan.

They were on a fairly straight road through the woods—now, with some distance following a truck that seemed to have trouble staying in lane. It began veering to the right, front wheels threatening to slip off the paved area and into the earth next to it.

Jen blew the horn. Maybe the driver had fallen asleep or something.

Nothing changed.

Then the right-side tires came off the road, getting caught in the shallow ditch beside it and chafing against the edge of the tarmac.

As long as the road went on straight, the truck would probably stay on track like this for a while, but if there was a bend, there'd better not be anyone on the opposite side of the road.

Jen kept driving, gradually increasing distance and watching the thing somewhat mesmerized. Allan gripped the sides of his seat.

Sonic jumped for the door handle. "Don't stop!" he called.

Jen started. "What?"

He pushed the door open and leapt outside, ignoring Jen's second shriek. His ribs protested when his feet hit the road running, but they'd get over it—he should've jumped out of the car ages ago.

Jen hit the brakes.

Sonic yelped, barely sidestepping the door that now swung fully open and right into his path. It almost managed to shave the fur off his sides.

Why did everyone always do that?

At least this time he hadn't been behind the car.

A moment later she'd apparently realized what had happened and accelerated again. Sonic slammed the door shut beside him, throwing her bewildered self a thumbs up.

He picked up the pace. The truck was still going somewhat steadily, but whoever was in there didn't seem to react for some reason. Sonic caught up to the truck's side in a blink and scaled the wheelhouse, latching himself to the struts of the truck's protruding mirror then allowing himself to pause for the tiniest of moments in a semi-curled position to explore the depths of his still aching chest with a deep breath. The one moment he could've used a good stretch before doing a stunt like this, and he didn't have the time.

Sonic reached an arm out and started banging his fist against the truck's side window without even looking inside. If the guy had been awake he clearly would've reacted by now. But the truck didn't change direction. Sonic straightened and peered inside. There was a slightly overweight, black-haired man slumped in the seat, one arm still loosely resting on the wheel. Sonic grimaced. His track record with unconscious people in vehicles wasn't all that good, apparently.

The truck hit a bump in the ditch and Sonic had to tighten his hold on the mirror. A quick peek ahead told him they were heading for a right bend in the road. If they kept going the way they did the truck would break free and crash head-on into the woods as soon as they got there. He had to wake the guy up somehow.

...Or steer the thing himself.

Sonic hugged the mirror and began kicking at the window, wincing with every high-speed hit that only seemed to recoil into himself and his ribs instead of breaking the glass. He roared, kicking the window one final time and shattering it into zillions of tiny pieces that now hung like a sheet in their frame. He broke through with his feet, showering the guy in shards, then barely managed to stay perched inside the frame instead of crashing into him. Through the windshield, Sonic could see the bend coming in fast.

He reached for the wheel, nudging it both ways, then had the sudden mental image of the thing going completely off-road and toppling over. What was the guy doing that it still accelerated, anyway? Sonic had had driving lessons (even if he didn't know what he'd ever need them for), but human stuff probably worked a bit differently.

Okay, Jen had used her feet at some point, so maybe not that differently.

Sonic held onto the frame, then kicked the guy's leg off of the pedal it still sat on, instantly feeling the truck's speed decrease. But the thing still didn't seem as if it would come to a halt before crossing the bend ahead. He reached for the wheel again, trying to hold his breath.

Chaos, he was gonna regret this.

#

Jen gaped, still driving after the truck as if stuck in some kind of trance.

Sonic had passed them with ease, scaled the truck's wheelhouse, and eventually broken into the driver's cab. In the truck's now misaligned mirror she could vaguely see him (or rather, his butt, mostly) as he reached past a motionless person for what appeared to be the steering wheel. The truck slowed, then came to a grinding halt driving into a mound right-side of the road only a couple of meters before reaching the bend.

After a moment, Sonic clambered out of the window, standing in its frame with one arm across the mirror. His ears swiveled, then he turned his head towards a car approaching from the opposite side of the road. His eyes searched Jen's, who was currently letting her car crawl to a halt, then he began gesturing. Something about the guy's heart…? Sonic shrugged.

The car on the opposite side decided to halt the moment its driver had noticed the crash, and Sonic took it as a cue to flip to the top of the truck's roof and disappear into the woods.

"Jen," Allan said probably for the seventeenth time. "Jen, how in the world could you not know this?"

She turned to look at him, still hypnotized. "Well, excuse me for not thinking of this when he told me he was 'fast'."

"But— How—" Allan threw his hands into the air. "You didn't ever notice him do anything crazy-fast? Like, catch a glass just in time or something? How is it possible to miss something like that?"

"There was nothing strange, believe me." She thought for a moment. "He did put the remote's batteries into one of my plant pots the other day, but—"

"Well, that settles it." Allan interrupted, looking dead serious.

Jen sobered up on the spot. "What?"

"You said he's looking for an overweight man with a mustache and odd clothes?"

Her brows furrowed. "Yes? What about it now."

"He's looking for a ringmaster."

It was at about this point that Allan's facade of seriousness broke apart and he fell into a snickering fit.

Jen laughed in disbelief. "I hate you, sometimes."

Ahead, the other driver had gotten out of her car and carefully crossed the road. She tried opening the doors to the truck's cab and failed. Then she sped around the front of the truck, apparently looking for something.

Allan made a face.

"Come on, we should help," Jen said.

He nodded, already opening the door. "If she saw him, you're the one who's explaining."

"You bet I'm not going to let you explain." She stuck out her tongue.

#

They'd waited until an ambulance had arrived, and were now trudging through the woods in search for Sonic who for some reason hadn't decided to reappear again after everything was handled.

"I still can't believe you just went with it," Allan said, crossing a fallen branch.

Jen pushed a bunch of twigs out of her way, glancing backwards. "You really would've told her that you saw nothing after all that?"

"Yes, obviously," he said, dodging the same twigs.

"And then what? We know each other—she'd only have gotten suspicious. Now she'll probably just go home and forget about everything in a couple of days… I would've. And who's she gonna tell, anyway? Not even you really believed me when I first told you."

"Yeah, thanks for bringing that up again."

"Sonic," she called.

"Jeez, keep it down." Allan made it to her side, looking around. "He's probably already checking out that Star Post without us."

"No, he's not," Jen said firmly, marching off in a straight line. Allan caught a glimpse of blue where she was headed and his intended retort died on his lips. He quickly caught up with her.

"Hey!" She tried, crouching down.

Sonic sat slumped against the base of a tree, unconscious and with one arm hugged around his chest. Jen seemed to try and find a proper spot to shake him awake, then drew her hand away, lips forming a line. She faced Allan.

"We should carry him back to the car," she said.

Allan felt his eyebrows arch then crumple. "I assume by 'we' you mean 'me'?" he asked, pointing a finger at himself.

"I, uh, well, my shoulder is still a bit sore…," she said, rubbing her arm and looking sheepish.

He knew it wasn't an excuse, but: "I'm not going to touch him!" It was already disconcerting enough that he had to sit on the same couch the guy was sleeping on; he wasn't going to carry him around now.

"Oh, please." Jen rolled her eyes. "He's showering, like, seven times a day, I bet there are more germs on you than there are on him."

"I hope you're exaggerating, because I don't want to hear anything about your water bill anytime soon—especially not after you've told me about one of his quills, or… spines or whatever clogging the drain—"

She gave him a flat look.

Sonic stirred.

"Oh, thank God," Allan muttered.

He jerked awake, drawing in a sharp breath, then instantly hugged his side with a groan. »Urgh, so much for a ›nice jog‹. Who would've thought breathing was that important…,« he commented in whatever his first language was.

He pushed himself to his feet and uprighted himself, carefully stretching his chest and taking a few more deep (and probably not too pleasant) breaths. Jen stared at him as if he was some kind of fragile construct.

Sonic exchanged a look with both after gathering himself. "Is he OK?" he asked.

"Er, what?" Jen blinked.

"The-" He paused, frowning, then made a steering gesture. "The guy," he said, letting his arms drop.

Jen snorted. "Yeah, he's okay. They've taken him to a hospital. What about you, though? You're the one doing crazy stunts around here and I can't exactly take you to a doctor."

Sonic shrugged, apparently reading her energy. "I'm okay when he's okay," he said.

Jen facepalmed.

* * *

_This is not the best break and I know it. But this one had become a bit too long overall. Next part is gonna be up faster than usual!_

_If any of this still makes you feel like leaving a review, please go ahead :D. _


	13. Chapter 13: Playground (II)

**Chapter 13: Playground (II)**

They walked along a forest trail towards their destination.

Beside them Sonic had fallen into a routine, leaping across every obstacle in his path and then trotting along for a while, stretching and catching (and cursing under) his breath. He was either too stubborn to realize that those minor stunts weren't contributing to his healing process, or simply too stupid, and Allan was torn between being annoyed by his ignorance, and the fact that he thought Sonic's display of agility was strangely mesmerizing. Also, Sonic had a talent for disappearing just in time when they came across someone else on the way, so he had to at least give him that.

The situation before had sprouted a shit ton of questions, and Allan hadn't managed to ask even one of them so far. What made it worse was that Jen hadn't cared about questioning Sonic either. So they'd spent the rest of the drive and the first part of the hike without any talk whatsoever.

"Maybe it's like with Superman," Allan blurted when the pile of questions in his head eventually toppled over.

It sounded better before he'd said it out loud.

Jen knitted her brows in skepticism. "You mean staying on Earth gave him superpowers?"

Her tone made a guy doing somersaults with a bruised rib suddenly appear like they were the most reasonable person around.

"Well…" Allan shrugged, now feeling somewhat flushed.

"…Kinda expected you'd question him about it first thing," she said.

"Why didn't you?" he returned.

Jen opened her mouth, then closed it again. She sighed. "It seemed like a chance for you to be a little more friendly with him. He's not _that_ weird."

"That's _exactly_ what's unnerving me." Allan threw his hands into the air. "I mean, he's supposed to be an _alien_ for god's sake. Can't he be at least a little bit different from us. He doesn't even have a lisp from those pointy teeth. I bet if you had him on the phone, you wouldn't even notice." He briefly checked whether Sonic had picked up on his outburst, but Sonic just skipped over a pile of logs like he wanted to win a contest.

Jen frowned. "_That's_ your problem of all things?"

Allan stopped, watching her trod away for a few steps before he caught up again.

It was silly. But it was definitely part of his problem. If Sonic wasn't ultimately so… _inoffensive_ to be around, Jen would've thought twice to take him in. If any of his other friends had decided to house an alien, Allan couldn't have cared less, but the fact that it had to be her of all people…

"Why did it have to be you?" He almost stumbled over his tongue.

"W-what?" She gave him an odd look. Did her cheeks look rosy?

Allan shifted his eyes so that Jen followed his gaze. Sonic was pacing along, taking one of his 'breathers'.

"Oh."

He wasn't sure if he'd caught a hint of disappointment there, but it didn't come back again.

"Because he helped me, I guess," she said. "And when he appeared at my place he just seemed so… _lost_. What would you've done?"

"I don't know," he admitted. But he was sure he would've sent him off the same night.

…_Probably_.

"I mean," Jen said. "I kind of thought I'd send him away the next day, but then I got curious, and then—" She paused, biting her lip. "He's a kid. He's, like, fourteen."

Allan was stunned for a moment. Sonic had struck him as young-ish but 'fourteen' seemed a little off. Even if Mobius' shorter days would technically amount to them having more days in a year, the elapsed time would still be the same, wouldn't it?

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Maybe they don't count in years?"

"Unless he's from a different place entirely, anything else doesn't make much sense, does it?"

Allan nodded slowly. "_Fourteen_," he mused. Did that change anything? It definitely made the idea of Sonic ending up on Earth because of a massive screw-up (instead of some kind of conspiracy) more plausible, but was it enough to put him at ease? Who knew what 'fourteen' meant for their kind anyway? The idea that this one could have a pair of worried parents out there somewhere seemed about as outlandish to him as picking up a degree in music.

"No wonder he's crappy at housekeeping," Allan said instead. Then another thought struck him. "Noticed any shortage of tissues yet?"

"What does that have to do with any—?"

Allan watched Jen's face gradually go from confusion to realization then indignation. Her mouth dropped open. Allan barely swallowed a grin.

"I did _not_ need that mental image, thank you," Jen cried. But the laugh that followed betrayed her flustered expression.

"Worth it," he chuckled.

Sonic had stopped, ears pricked up like those of a stalking cat. At least there was _something_ not unsettlingly human about him (aside from the 'going commando' part, which was unsettling in an entirely different way).

"It's here," Sonic said, sounding a bit surprised.

"Huh? Nah, we're not close enough yet." Jen grabbed the map pieces sticking out from Allan's backpack and tried to align the path they were on with their supposed destination.

"No. I'm sure." Sonic pointed into the woods somewhere ahead. "Like, here."

Allan frowned, following his gaze. There was actually a small trail leading off some ways ahead, but no sign of a colored pole anywhere.

"Alright," Jen said doubtfully, rolling the sheets up again. "Lead the way, then."

"Uh, no. You first. There's people."

"What, are you a psychic now?" Allan muttered.

"At least he's being careful?" Jen shrugged.

#

"Well, shit," Allan concluded.

The Star Post was in fact only a couple of meters away from the path. It was also, however, part of a forest playground, standing right in the middle of a large sandpit.

About half a dozen families leisured about, not paying the thing any unusual attention. It was obviously inconspicuous enough to pass off as proper playground decoration. Some kid made a clumsy attempt at climbing the tip, then lost his grip and tumbled into the sand below. He decided to climb the side of the slide next.

"I guess that answers the question about 'seeing images'," Jen said. "Otherwise everyone would be freaking out by now."

"What now?" Allan asked. "Are we going to wait?"

Jen hummed, then shook her head. She stepped into the sandpit, weaved past the kids and their toys and planted herself in front of the post, putting several parents on alert.

Allan acknowledged them with a nod and the most soothing look he could manage. "Uh, university project," he said, then carefully went after Jen. It seemed to be enough to defuse the sudden tension, but some of them still looked as if his words had marked the start of a timer ticking down.

The Star Post was about Jen's height and a few inches below Allan's. It also looked perfectly useless, but now that he stood so close to it, it actually felt a little bit out of place. Could this thing really be able to open a portal? What would happen to his head if it did? Would he just suddenly be in two places at once, or would the portal shear his head right off?

He swallowed, crouching down beside Jen who'd already begun inspecting the lower part.

"He said there'd be some sort of cage at the bottom," she mused.

Instead, the lower end of the Post was shaped like a solid, slightly hourglass-shaped, cylinder, only broken up by three silvery hoops that gleamed as if they'd been restored recently. They almost seamlessly fit into the rest of the shape. Jen ran a finger along their smooth looking surface.

"Maybe it's a different model or something?" Allan suggested.

"Well, I know at least _someone_ who should know about this," she said.

Jen let her gaze wander across the playground before rising to her feet again and prompting Allan to do the same. "Looks like it's gonna be a while 'til we find out, though."

Allan nodded, scanning the area as well. "Are we grown-up enough to check out the ropeway back there?" he asked.

"We are," she sang.

Sonic had watched the playground from the crown of a nearby tree, still somewhat satisfied with today's exercise. Now though, he wouldn't mind if the people down there finally decided to get lost.

That Star Post was actually there.

The people were clearly the reason Sonic hadn't bothered with the place before. What wasn't so clear, though, was how he'd managed to somehow 'sense' the Star Post earlier. For a brief moment he'd just _felt_ something, then it was gone again. Was he just getting more… receptive all of a sudden, or was there actually something different about this particular Post? There weren't too many people left, but until they were gone, he wouldn't find out for sure.

Meanwhile he'd pretty much hung around the area and done nothing aside from trying to find something to eat—a task that had seemed much more exciting and adventurous before he'd known what it meant to have to rely on it. He wasn't exactly under pressure anymore (well, most of the time anyway…), but watching Jen and Allan snack on the stuff they'd brought didn't make waiting any easier.

Sonic could picture Jen trying to look for him out here, sharing something, but he could just as well picture Allan trying to talk her out of it. It was fine either way—even though she _did_ have a tendency to overdo it—but in the end Sonic had no idea what the guy's deal was anyway. He was perfectly aware that Jen helped him out without getting anything in return—something Sonic would do himself without thinking—and he felt more than strange being on the receiving end of it, but he had no idea what he could be doing wrong that made the guy so… skittish most of the time.

The last of the people were packing up now. Finally.

Underneath Sonic's tree a kid appeared. It was probably a girl, but kids were a lot harder to determine than adults, so he wasn't entirely sure. She at least didn't seem to be _taller_ than him, so that was something. A gray-ish brown bird came hopping past and she chased after it. The girl probably belonged to the people packing up, but no one seemed to be freaking out yet. Maybe he could get her to head back before she got lost and the guys began roaming the place for the rest of the night…

Sonic slid to a branch below, suppressing a grunt when the motion tugged at his ribs. Why did resting always have to make pain worse for a while? He knew why he kind of skimped on that most of the time.

He brushed past a bunch of leaves as he dropped to the next level, then froze. A woman had come after the kid, pausing below. She looked right at him, eyes wide. Sonic grimaced.

A moment passed, then she seemed to realize she was letting her kid get out of sight. She tried to scan the area while at the same time trying not to let Sonic out of her sight.

"She's there," Sonic said, thumbing sideways.

She started, looking at him, then her gaze followed his thumb. The girl kneeled a few paces off, trying to feed the bird some kind of nut.

The woman faced him again, posture relaxed now but face frowning. "You can talk?" she said.

Sonic made a vague gesture. »Yeaah, I'm kinda good at it actually. 'S just no one seems to notice around here.« He gave a lopsided grin.

She blinked, looking puzzled for a moment but with a faint smile spreading on her face, then she hurried after her kid.

Sonic felt strangely relaxed. At this point he didn't even have a word to describe the current state of his vocabulary, but apparently it was already enough to lower people's freak-out level to somewhere around 'mild confusion'. Enough reason to get this stuff into his head even faster from now on.

…Or _maybe_ he just needed to finally get home. There was a Star Post supposed to do the job right around the corner after all. Sonic slipped off the tree and out of the woman's sight.

#

The playground was finally empty. The late rays of the sun gleamed past the trees that surrounded it and the air was crisp despite the warm light underneath a clear but dimming sky.

Sonic hopped on top of one of the logs separating the sandpit from the rest of the area. The Star Post stood in the sandpit's center as if someone had put it there on purpose. It even had the same color scheme as the nearby slide. But it must've been the other way around. You didn't just move a Star Post somewhere else. Wherever they stood, they'd been standing there for pretty much forever.

At least that's what he knew.

Which reminded him that he didn't know much at all.

He was close enough now to _feel_ something though. Like a kind of hum that he heard with his chest instead of his ears—as if he'd stepped into a zone of concentrated Chaos energy that surrounded the Post, sending a faint prickle across his skin. It felt as if the Star Post was supercharged or something—whatever sense that made.

Had the others felt anything when they stood so close? Sonic had watched Jen and Allan when they'd stepped into the sandpit, but neither they, nor anyone else had seemed fazed whatsoever. So either this had started to happen right this moment, or neither of them had noticed. Whatever was going on, it had better be a good sign. He was ready for a show.

Sonic was about to jump into the sandpit, then hesitated. Where _were_ Jen and Allan, anyway? They'd been roaming around the place all day, only to disappear now with everyone else? Even Allan had seemed faintly interested, so that couldn't be right.

He glanced at the Star Post again, licking his lips.

If the thing worked now, should he maybe just _leave_? It was what he'd do if Jen and Allan weren't around just now. The potential 'goodbye' was implied each time he set out from her place, after all. Sonic took a breath, then couldn't bring his feet to carry him closer to the Star Post.

Nope. For all he couldn't do to pay her back, he could at least give her that.

He paced along the top of the logs, keeping his distance and looking out for the two humans in question. Then he spotted Jen and Allan on a bench halfway hidden behind a bush that was still covered in autumnal leaves. Sonic leaped off the logs, stepping closer, then paused.

They… kissed.

That was new.

A couple of things did make a lot more sense now, though.

Jen parted from Allan as if she'd somehow sensed Sonic standing there, then gaped anyway. Allan slouched, lips forming a line. He hesitantly removed his hands from her hips.

"Dude!" Jen cried in a mix of laughter and despair, grabbing something from the bench and throwing it at Sonic.

He snatched it out of the air at the last moment, recognizing it as the crumpled remnants of one of the pastry bags Jen had brought. Did they have to eat it all?

"See, this is what I'm talking about," Allan said, gesturing a hand at Sonic.

"Oh please, _you_ could've caught that," Jen said.

"No, not _that_!"

...Maybe it wasn't so bad Sonic didn't understand everything yet.

#

"Alright," Allan said, crossing his arms and planting himself at the edge of the sandpit. "Impress me."

Sonic leapt on top of the array of logs, feeling engulfed in static again. Before he could take another step though, Jen came after him.

"Wait," she said. Sonic turned.

"You—" She bit her lip. "This is gonna be it, right? If this works, you'll leave."

Allan watched her curiously.

Sonic nodded. He hadn't understood _exactly_, but he'd definitely gotten better at reading expressions.

Jen gave a nod as well, then extended a hand, eventually just grabbing Sonic's and taking it into both of her own, holding it close. "Just in case. I mean—" She looked at him with restless eyes for a moment, then her grip tightened briefly and she let go again.

Man, he hated that part.

He smiled anyway.

"Thanks, Jen," he said, then jumped into the sandpit.

The moment his feet hit the ground a deep hum rose from the Star Post, ending abruptly in the sound of pressured air bursting free. Puffs of sand shot out of the silvery hoops and hinges of the Post, softly floating towards the ground.

Allan called out in surprise.

Then Sonic's vision went blank.

He started. This wasn't supposed to happen now. He needed to see whether that stupid Post was only doing the same clean-up stuff the one in the mountains had done or whether an actual portal opened. The only time he'd ever seen one, it had been open so briefly, he would completely miss it if he had to sit out a vision again. He needed to get out!

Sonic floated again, this time above a clearing surrounded by tall broadleaves. Their crowns swayed softly in a breeze he couldn't feel, green leaves gleaming in the rays of the sun. A bunch of gauges appeared at the edge of his vision, one of them a bright green bar again. This time it clearly looked like a frickin' battery bar. How had he missed that before?

Now, if he just tried to do stuff, it would end again, right?

Sonic twisted in the air on sheer intuition. A 'virtual version' of the Star Post was right beneath him, but Jen and Allan were nowhere to be seen. Before him, where tall trees stood in the 'real world', the clearing opened up to a wide, shallow lake of brilliant water, its smooth shimmering surface only disturbed by—

Were that _chao_ playing in it?

This was the first time something 'alive' was in these visions—not counting walrus-dude, anyway. Ever since that time he'd never had any of those 'grainy' visions again either, and seeing some other creature with him in one of the colored, floaty ones, was clearly new. Could there be people in here, too? Someone to talk to?

Beside the lake, a tall pedestal stood there like a landmark. One of its sides seemed to have a word and some sort of relief on it, sharp shadows making it stand out against the surface.

Sonic imagined his view zooming in on the pedestal and he instantly surged towards it with unexpected speed. The moment he got close enough to decipher anything, a glaring red font smacked into his view, and the image distorted before his eyes. Sonic stumbled as he popped back into reality.

The Star Post stood there as quietly as before.

Sonic glanced back into the bemused faces of Jen and Allan. They looked just the way he'd left them.

"…Did you see?" Sonic asked a lot less eloquently than he would've liked. He pointed towards the Post.

Jen frowned, exchanging a glance with Allan.

"It spun for a second," she said, gesturing. "But that's it."

Sonic turned back towards the Star Post, rubbing his face. Alright, so he hadn't missed anything. Great, and crap. And how _was_ this one going to work anyway? It didn't even have one of those cages at the bottom.

He stepped closer, running his finger along one of the smooth, silvery hoops. It budged slightly, like a perfectly supported, recently maintained wheel. It could move for about a finger's width or so in both directions, then stopped with a solid chunk in pretty much the same way the other Post's cages had before. Sonic didn't need to try any further to know that he wasn't going to make this one work for him either. It actually now even seemed as if those Star Posts were actively locking him out. But then why had they let him 'in' in the first place? Had there, back on Mobius, been someone else who'd actually activated it and Sonic had gotten in before them?

If that was the case, they could really come and fetch him now, please.

#

Jen watched Sonic inspect the shiny hoops at the bottom of the pole, which, for some reason, now seemed to be able to pivot to some degree. When she'd looked at them earlier, they'd definitely been stuck fast. But that strange gust from before must've managed to clean them out—whatever it was that had caused it.

"It actually looked like he 'saw' something just there," Allan mused.

"I guess so," she said absently, starting to cross the logs and walk towards the center of the sandpit.

When Sonic had approached the Star Post, she'd for a tiny moment hoped that it wouldn't work, only to instantly feel horrible about it. The kid was supposed to go home, not hang out here forever trying to get a new language into his head. And the crumpled expression he'd had when examining the hoops didn't help calm her conscience either. But there were just so many questions left. It seemed too early to—"_Hey!_"

Sonic abruptly took off towards the edge of the playground, disappearing between the trees.

"I guess that's that," Allan said, following her into the sandpit.

Jen knelt down with a groan, inspecting the hoop once more. It really was kind of loose now.

Allan crouched down across from her. "Not going after him?" he asked.

"Not today." She smiled.

A moment later, Sonic returned to the clearing, calling, »Hey, could you help me out here?«

"Did you understand—"

"No," Jen said. "But _now_ I'm going after him."

Sonic was easy to spot a couple of steps into the woods, pacing between trees and apparently looking for something. When he noticed them approach, he beckoned them over, then gestured towards the general area away from the playground.

"Do you know when there is, uh, was…?" he shook his head, interrupting himself, then crouched down and picked a twig to draw a kidney-like shape into the dirt, along with a few markers that seemed to depict the playground and the Star Post. "Here," he said, pointing sideways again, twig in hand. "Water."

Jen practically felt Allan crease his brows behind her back. She took a moment to inspect the drawing, then walked a few steps to follow the direction Sonic had indicated. She had no idea where Sonic could've gotten the idea of a body of water being around here, but she vaguely remembered hearing about changes in landscape during the past centuries (millennia?) or so. She just wasn't sure whether she was thinking about the right area. She went back to pull the rolled-up map fragments out of Allan's half-open backpack.

"You're taking everything he says seriously, aren't you?" Allan said.

She shrugged. "I guess I'm just overly curious. Do you know something about a lake being around here?"

"A _lake_? How did you get from a single word and a scribble that he's talking about a lake?"

"Eh, you get used to it," she shrugged again.

"Right…"

Jen picked out the sheet marking the playground location. It was part of a hiking map with accurate information on elevations in the area. One part looked indeed like one half of a large, kidney-shaped depression. She aligned it with the rest of the map.

Allan bent over above her. "Are you kidding me? How's he supposed to know something like this?"

Jen snorted. "I'm waiting for the day when he can explain."

"Well, I'm not." Allan mumbled.

Sonic took a peek at the map himself, crouching across from Jen. He seemed surprised, thinking for a moment, then sprang to his feet again, briefly surveying the area as if measuring it up. He began darting from one tree to the other, inspecting fallen trunks, heaps of leaves and overgrown stones.

"Alright," Allan said, crossing his arms but still watching Sonic. "I hope you're finding this about as weird as I do. Because the only valid explanation I have for his behavior that doesn't involve a major conspiracy, is that he really 'saw' something earlier. And even that gives me way too much room for ideas."

Jen met his eyes. "How can a single person worry as much as you do?" she asked.

Allan opened his mouth in protest then closed it again, adjusting his already crossed arms. He looked away.

She couldn't really blame him. It wasn't easy for _her_ to simply dismiss the things she didn't know about Sonic: Maybe he wasn't as amiable as she thought he was. Maybe he hadn't told her the truth. Maybe he _did_ have an agenda. And what _would_ she do if someone found him at her place? Her gut told her that everything was going to work out okay, but it was clearly easier to just roll with it when your worries weren't spoken out aloud by someone else…

Allan hung his shoulders with a sigh, then seemed to catch sight of Sonic again, who'd managed to climb the lower part of a tree in the meantime. It had a broad, bulging trunk that spread into two as it grew tall, with a moss-laden cleft in the middle. Sonic lowered himself down between the two parts of the trunk, one knee perched on the edge of what appeared to be an opening. He reached inside and began throwing out handfuls of dirt and leaves.

Jen made her way to the tree, looking up. Cocking her head seemed to be a sufficient enough question, but she spoke the words anyway. "What are you doing?"

Sonic seemed to be trying to prod something free inside. "I, uh, _look_," he said, straightening and gesturing into the hole.

Allan came up beside her. A comment felt imminent.

"Say nothing," she said.

He shut his mouth with a quiet _plop_, lips pursing.

Jen stepped forward, grabbing the ledge of the opening. She jumped, trying to pull herself up while at the same time trying not to put too much weight on her still somewhat tender shoulder. Her feet slipped from the bark each time she was close to getting her nose above the ledge.

Sonic steadied himself and extended a hand as she regained her footing on the ground.

"Are you kidding me?" Jen said. "You have a bruised rib and I'm way too heavy!" She pointed at his side.

»And you shouldn't try this on your own with your shoulder.« His gesture was clear enough. Sonic shrugged.

"He might be right…? For once," Allan said slowly, as if doubting the words at the same moment.

Allan glanced around the area, then strode over to a bleached, cut log lying around. He kicked it loose until he could roll it over to Sonic's tree where he uprighted the log and checked its stability.

"Milady." Allan made a slight bow and extended a hand.

Jen snorted. "Why thank you, my lord." She firmly grabbed his hand and made one large step on to the top of the log, steadying herself. Sonic gave her some space to peer inside.

"What is it?" Allan asked.

She hummed. "Some kind of stone. I think I'm seeing the upper part of it, as if it tipped over when the tree grew around it. It's probably what makes the trunk bulge over there… You didn't happen to bring a flashlight?"

Allan pulled a pen-sized torch out of one of his coat's chest pockets. "At your service," he said.

Jen chuckled, taking it from his fingers.

Aside from the stuff Sonic had already scratched off, the stone was caked in the dirt that had accumulated from the decaying leaves. She could still recognize engravings, starting with what appeared to be a text at the top, to some kind of picture of roughly drop-shaped objects too covered to make out. She reached inside to scratch at the dirt around the lines she thought were letters.

"Can you read that," she asked, looking at Sonic.

"No…," he shook his head. "But I know?" He sounded dissatisfied with his answer, but for once it didn't seem to be because he couldn't properly express himself.

Jen frowned. "This is from your home?"

"Yeah," he said. »I hope so anyway, because if it isn't, everything's gonna be major confusing.« A shrug.

Allan tapped her thigh. "Let me take a look."

She let him climb up, handing over the flashlight. He peered into the opening, apparently trying to keep as much of a distance as possible from Sonic who by now sat on the opening's edge, feet dangling inside. He looked pensive—in a way she thought he would normally try not to carry outward. Jen struggled not to ask the obvious, 'are you okay?'.

She decided on, "we're going to help," instead.

Sonic looked at her, putting on a smile that could've been convincing in another situation. »I know,« he said, using a phrase she'd picked up during their sessions. Jen couldn't help but smile as well.

Allan still mulled over the carvings, occasionally reaching inside to pry something free. He hummed in thought.

"I think we should show this to someone else," he said eventually, voice muffled from looking into the opening.

"Like, who?" Jen asked, genuinely curious.

He uprighted himself, adjusting his glasses with his index finger and staring into the distance for a moment. "Do you think there's a connection between this slab and the 'Star Post' back there?" he asked.

"Well, if anything, it's both connected to him," she said.

"Right," he nodded as if affirming his own thought. "I think we should try to get in contact with the person who did the research for the museum—you know, the images I brought."

Jen arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'd guess they have more information behind the stuff they put out for the public. Or, if they don't, they should at least be able to tell us whether this has already been deciphered someplace else. I'd say we free the stone up some more, take a couple of pictures and go ask."

Jen blinked. "That actually sounds reasonable."

"Well, I do have a reputation to live up to."


	14. Chapter 14: It's Just a Scarf

**Chapter 14: It's Just a Scarf**

Allan scooped up a bit of snow with his ski, flinging it into the air. Then he scooped up some more. Jen sat (somewhat more patiently) on a log in the snow across, back towards the valley.

"I still can't believe you're going through with this," he said, shaking his head.

It was the first day of their joint vacation and also the perfect day for skiing. Yet the only thing Allan had done so far was to wait for a certain blue housemate to arrive—thanks to Jen having had the brilliant idea to invite him for snowboarding. It was one thing to plan for Sonic being within reach in case the professor they were supposed to meet knew a whole lot more than they'd gathered so far, but that didn't mean Sonic had to take part in the _vacation_ part of their trip.

"He'll come. If there's one thing he's good at, it's orientation," Jen said.

"I'm more concerned about his time-reading skills."

Jen rolled her eyes. "Then take a spin without me."

"I didn't come here to ski alone," he muttered, trying to remind himself that spending time with Jen waiting was still spending time with Jen. Allan unstrapped his ski and sat down beside her, taking in the view. They'd picked a place slightly off-piste right near a piece of forest where no one probably even looked their way. A sharp breeze ruffled through Allan's hair on an otherwise perfect day and he fished for his toque.

"How did you manage to get a snowboard his size, anyway. Didn't you say he was too heavy for a kid-sized one?" he asked.

"I… kind of asked for a board that would fit a socially reclusive midget…?"

Allan opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Well then. Let's hope he doesn't break it. If he's snowboarding the same way he leaves your flat—"

"Oh, don't be such a wet blanket. It's only for one day."

"Sure…"

The branches rustled, followed by the crunching of snow as Sonic finally managed to show up. He waited between the trees where the snow was less deep, being decidedly under-dressed as always. While wearing pair of calf-length cargo shorts was clearly an upgrade in decency, it could hardly be called weather-appropriate. Allan couldn't imagine Sonic's fur to be _that_ warm.

"Hey! Hope you didn't wait long," Sonic said with barely an accent. He had (as Allan grudgingly had to admit) made quite a bit of progress during the past couple of weeks. But he'd still managed to let them wait for just about twenty minutes…

"No, it's okay." Jen said, getting up and dragging the snowboard over. "Though I hope you really meant _this_ when you said snowboarding and don't want to ski now. Because if you got it wrong I think I'll dropkick you down the mountain." She added, sticking out her tongue.

Allan suppressed a snort. As if.

"Nah, it's great," Sonic said. "Don't worry."

He gave the board a short but strangely expert inspection while Jen produced a pair of matching boots from her backpack.

"Hope they fit," she said.

Sonic checked out their soles and the way the shoes would latch into the board's bindings, pursing his lips as he probably realized he couldn't keep wearing his own. After a moment he bent down and slipped out of a sneaker and into one of the boots, pulling up one ridiculously loose sock in the process.

"I've got a second pair of socks if the shoes are too loose," Jen said. What the heck else had she considered?

"Nah, I'm good." Sonic took a few probing steps, then seemed to have a brief inner debate before handing his own shoes to Jen and watching her pack them up. He swung the snowboard across his back, looking ready to go.

"Thanks," he said.

At least _that_ had gone quick. Allan prepared to get up again, but then just slumped back on the log as Jen pulled something else from her backpack, causing even Sonic to pause.

"I thought you might want these," she said, handing him a pair of gloves. He eyed them for a moment, seemingly stunned, then leaned the board against a tree, took the gloves and simply slipped them over his own fingerless ones, flexing his hand. Jen managed to produce a bright green scarf in the meantime, which she'd probably picked because it matched his eye-color or something.

Sonic looked at her with the kind of grin that bordered between amazement and utter confusion. "You're crazy," he said.

"Even _he_ admits it…," Allan muttered under his breath.

"No, I'm just not looking forward to having a sick version of you at my place," she replied.

Allan winced. _That_ was a good point as well.

Sonic wrapped the scarf around his neck, creating a bundle that was almost as large as his head. He tucked the ends together anyway.

Jen scratched her head. "I think mine is shorter, we could switch if you want…"

Sonic pulled the scarf from his lips with a chuckle, steam forming in the air. "This one's fine, really."

"Okay." Jen deflated somewhat. "That's it from me, then. See you at three. _Take care!_"

»Will do.« He grinned. "Bye, Al." Then he was off.

Allan finally got up, brushing snow from his behind.

"I'm surprised you didn't also bring a coat for him."

"Allan…"

"You know what I mean. I get that he has to learn, and I get that he needs some help. But neither do you have to mother him so much, nor does he have to _live_ with you in the meantime. I thought we were on the same page about this."

Jen took a deep breath. "Allan, it's in the middle of winter, I can hardly kick him out _now_."

Allan scoffed. "Well, he keeps saying he's fine. So maybe you should take him at his word."

"…Just how jealous are you, really?"

"I—What? I'm not _jealous_. I—" He paused, grasping for an explanation. "Look, you know I don't have a lot of free time. But when I do, I want to spend it with _you_, not you both."

Jen crossed her arms. "He's _never_ there when we meet."

"Yes, I know. And I appreciate it. But you still can't let the subject go. He might not be there, but you still spend half of the time talking about him. And whenever you don't I'm just sitting there anticipating. It's driving my crazy."

Jen went quiet, staring at the snow in front of her. After a moment she hung her shoulders, looking helpless. "I _know_."

He already had a return on his lips but bit it off when she continued: "But—You're literally the only one I can talk to about this. What am I supposed to do? I mean, we could go and involve someone else if it helps, but—" She shook her head, looking away.

_Damn_. He hadn't looked at it that way. Now all his arguments and suggestions had somehow poofed out of existence. Allan folded his arms.

"…Okay," he said.

"Okay what?" Jen met his eyes.

"You're right. I don't think we should involve anyone else."

Jen seemed taken aback. "Good. Then what do we do?"

Good question. What _could_ they do, anyway? A week ago Allan had half-jokingly suggested that they should just go ahead and hand Sonic over to NASA. It would certainly kick-start a whole new era of space programs and research, at some point likely leading to the endeavor of a manned space trip that Sonic could be part of.

Only he'd kind of overlooked the fact that such a mission would, even with focused effort, still take a couple of years to prepare, in which Sonic would most likely have a worse time than he'd ever have freezing his butt off in a Canadian winter.

Needless to say the comment had earned Allan the most intense look of disbelief he'd ever seen on Jen's face.

Whatever they chose to do now, she was in this—and so was he after a fashion. None of that would suddenly change if she stopped letting Sonic stay at her place. But the way it was, Allan just couldn't see this situation be beneficial for anyone but Sonic. He had no choice but to trust him to keep them both out of whatever trouble he might get into. Allan just hoped Sonic was capable of realizing that he owed Jen big time by now.

He let out a breath. "Can we try something?"

Jen perked up.

"I know I'm having a hard time accepting that he's… not out to get you into trouble or anything, and I'm trying my best to get used to this situation. But at the same time you should try and find a way to not feel responsible all the time." Allan licked his lips. (This was clearly one of the things you had to get across without sounding like a jerk).

Jen gave him an expectant look.

He continued: "When he's out, away, whatever he does: If he gets himself into a mess, it's not your fault. You're not the one who has to come to his rescue. He's siphoning enough off of you as it is, and I don't understand what you feel you're getting in return, but I can tell it's distracting you—and you know it, too. So, when spring comes, at the latest, I want him to be on his own. He can come when he needs help, alright, but until then you should try to learn to acknowledge that you don't have to feel responsible for him, or worry about him unquestioned—especially not when he doesn't seem to listen to what you ask of him."

Jen considered Allan's words a little longer than he would've liked, a pained look on her face now. He was used to her being sensible to the rational part of an argument, but he really wished there'd be a little less emotion in all this.

She nodded eventually, relaxing somewhat. "Okay," she said, releasing a breath. "Spring it is. I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I mean it. Now let's get back to being students on vacation, OK?" She smiled vaguely.

Allan grinned. "Already on it," he said, bowing down and grabbing a bunch of snow to throw at her.

"_Hey!_"

#

Sonic somehow managed to have a blast and the worst day ever at the same time. The weather couldn't be more perfect (although it _had_ gotten somewhat cold around the chest—not that he'd admit it—and he'd adjusted the scarf a couple of times, now wearing it like some sort of harness), but he'd slightly underestimated the amount of trudging it took to get up a decent slope without a lift. It made frozen water even worse than liquid water in his book: at least he could run on top of the latter. But here, even with the convenience of having a splitboard under his feet (he still couldn't believe Jen had thought _that_ far ahead), he could only trudge. One step at a time.

He emerged from the shade of a patch of trees and began crossing a wide open stretch of deep snow, shading his eyes from the sun and immediately wishing for a pair of sunglasses. Jen had probably also thought about lending him a pair, but by now even he was perfectly sure that, unless they made eyewear for elephants, nothing on this planet would ever fit his head.

After some more trudging Sonic pulled himself on top of a sundried boulder, unstrapping the two halves of the board from his shoes and piecing them together again. He stuck the readied board into the snow beside him and leaned back onto his elbows, letting the warmth of the sun seep into his damp fur and clothes. After a moment he closed his eyes and lay down fully, arms and legs stretched out. It always seemed to take him a bit of time before he could fully relax wherever he went, even when he already knew he was perfectly alone out here—the proper ski area wasn't even in hearing range. But as much as he wanted to blame Jen and Allan for rubbing off on him, he knew that he hadn't exactly felt at ease even before he'd come to meet the two. Being the only one of your kind on a foreign planet apparently did that to you.

He propped himself up again, scanning the area while picking up a few bits of snow to melt in his mouth. Before him laid a softly declining slope of glistening deep snow that would get properly rough further down. Behind it, the wide valley between the mountains was sprinkled with far-off blotches of civilization. Despite always taking a moment to become properly at ease, it was in places like these where he could just _be_ for a change (nevermind the fact that he wouldn't mind just '_being_' at a local dance club, or the diner next door…). When he made his way through cities or outskirts, he always felt like keeping his head down. It wasn't so much because he worried about being discovered anymore—there was no way anyone could link him to Jen or Allan anyway—it was because of their ridiculous reactions. The odd confused stare was fine and all, but, man, those guys took way too long to get over the fact that he didn't look like _them_, even though they clearly seemed to realize he was mostly the same, after all. It was definitely one of the top five "most annoying things about being stuck on an alien planet" (right next to living through two winters in a row, having to take extra-care sleeping on a couch that wasn't quill proof, having regular near-death experiences trying not to fall into an oversized toilet, and not getting a single frickin' chili dog _anywhere_).

…Technically, he thought he understood what those humans were going through: they were the only sapient species around. They weren't used to someone like him. He just couldn't figure out why it was such a big deal to still be at least somewhat _normal_ around him. Even Jen had taken a while to stop treating him like a ticking time-bomb or something, although that probably had something to do with the fact that they couldn't properly communicate at first. Now she cared for him to the point that it managed to make him uncomfortable half of the time. Having a go-to place while he was stuck here was no doubt the best thing that could've happened to him, but by now he was long overdue repaying her in some way or other, and he perfectly knew that he had no means to do so whatsoever. The only thing he could do was to at least give her as much space as possible, but then whenever he was out for a while, she just kind of got frustrated that he'd left or something. He really needed to try and talk to her about it eventually.

…And maybe try to be on time at least today.

#

"_Hello?_"

Sonic slid his board to a halt, snow spraying. He was about halfway down and in the middle of a pine forest still far off from the regular ski area. A faint call for 'hello' wasn't exactly what he'd expected to hear. He pricked up his ears.

"_Hey? Anyone?_" A pause. "Shit, I'm so dead."

The voice had come from somewhere to his right, sounding male and probably not older than his own. Sonic was fairly sure his sense of direction hadn't failed him since getting here. So whoever was trying to get someone's attention over there, they likely weren't going to get lucky anytime soon.

…He really was a magnet for this kind of stuff happening.

Sonic edged his board forward and crossed the forest along the incline, trying not to gain too much downward momentum. After a short stretch he could make out the back of a person sitting against a lying trunk a little ways below. A trail of crushed, messed-up snow lead right to him. Sonic grimaced.

The one below lifted what could only be his phone towards the sky, snuffling. "Come on, come on, _come on_….".

Sonic put his board into motion again and slid past, stopping below the boy's feet which still had a snowboard strapped to them.

"Oh, _shit_." The kid started, phone slipping from his fingers. He frantically picked it up again, then tried pushing himself up from a sitting position only to instantly sag down, wincing and gritting his teeth. He raised his arms defensively, eyes squinted. "Don't kill me, don't kill me!"

Sonic raised an eye-ridge. "I think you managed that well enough without me."

The boy let his arm drop and stared in that particular open-mouthed way that humans apparently reserved for situations like this. "You can talk?" he said.

Sonic tried his best to keep the 'duh' from his face. As much as he appreciated being able to _finally_ follow along most of daily Earth conversation, this kid made him feel like forgetting his newfound skills for a while.

The boy gave him a somewhat sheepish look as Sonic had apparently failed in keeping his face neutral. Then he glanced away, shoulders slumping. He looked thoroughly exhausted, probably unable to get up on his own. Not the kind of time to start acting snarky.

"What happened?" Sonic asked instead.

He wiped his nose with the back of his glove, then studied Sonic for a moment with a pair of eyes that would've probably been framed by puffy red skin if said skin hadn't been so dark.

"Dunno," he said. "Guess my board got caught in something. Next thing I know I'm here."

"Can you move your legs?" The one question Sonic never ever wanted to have to answer.

"Y-yeah, I guess." His board moved a bit and he flinched again. "But my hip hurts like hell."

Sonic frowned. The 'hip' was probably what the part where the legs connected was called. No way he could get the guy anywhere if he'd broken something there.

"'S there anything nearby?" Sonic asked.

"What? Nah, closest thing is lower terminus. No way I can make it there."

"What's that?"

"What?"

"Lower terminus? Maybe I can get someone there," Sonic said.

"You?"

"Do you see anyone else?"

"...You can't just go there…"

"Why not?"

"Well, I—I mean, you know you don't look like—What are you anyway?"

Sonic shrugged. "Most people think I'm pretty handsome."

The kid blinked, then wiped his nose again stifling a smile. "But you can't go," he said again after a pause.

"Okay." Sonic readied his board. "Good luck, then."

The kid's eyes widened briefly, causing Sonic to pause.

_Obviously._

"_No_. I—uh," he stammered. The fingers of his ungloved hand clenched around his phone and he regarded it for a moment, a torn expression on his face. Eventually, he held it out to Sonic, swallowing.

"Bring it back," he said.

Sonic faltered. "Uh. What?"

"I'd be out three times already if this wasn't a fricking dead zone," he said as if it explained everything.

Sonic frowned, then hopped close enough to take the phone from the boy's still reluctant hand.

"I already tried calling mountain rescue like a million times. Just redial as soon as you get a signal," he said.

Right… So it wasn't the first time Sonic had a cell in his hands—Jen had tried to lend him hers in a touch of worry or something—but of course he'd declined before she even got to explaining the thing to him. Unfortunately, the black bar in his hand wasn't exactly self-explanatory. But, hey, he recognized the numbers from the TV remote. That was something, right?

Sonic pushed one of the buttons and the screen lit up with a fuzzy image of the guy and a friend (probably) and a whole bunch of text across it. Then it went dark again.

"…How?" Sonic asked. _Chaos._ If there were points for inwardly cringing, this would've been his personal high-score. Why couldn't he just go and stir them all up at the terminus thing?

The teen looked confused. "What do you mean, 'how'?"

…Forget that high-score.

"I need—" Instructions? How the heck did they say 'instructions'? Sonic groaned. "Just show me how it works."

"Okay…" His look was beyond skeptical.

Sonic crouched down and listened as the kid began to give him a run-down of the process, then the boy apparently came to a realization: "You can't read?"

Sonic cringed, briefly glad that a flushed face wasn't remotely as obvious on his face as it was on a human (save for this particular one anyway).

"…I'm still learning," Sonic admitted.

He earned a frown.

Sonic let his hands drop to his sides, groaning. "Come on, you shouldn't sit here too long."

The teen swallowed. "Yeah, but—"

"I'll manage."

"…Okay," the boy said, hesitantly holding out his phone again.

Sonic picked it from his fingers and repeated the steps. It actually seemed to start dialing, then abruptly shut off again. Good enough for now. He pocketed the thing, then hauled himself on top of a piece of trunk, unstrapping his board and sticking it into the snow beside him. "Be right back," he said, hopping towards shallower snow between the trees.

"Ben."

Sonic turned. "What?"

"My name. Ben. They're gonna wanna know. Benjamin Johnson."

#

Sonic was way out of sight when the phone started chiming and vibrating. The screen was instantly cluttered with messages indicating that he apparently now had reception. Also, apparently, he now probably had to be extra careful not to accidentally call the kid's mom.

He went through the steps a bit more slowly this time and it began dialing. Then something dawned on him. How was he supposed to put the phone to his ear and talk into it at the same time? Sonic held the thing somewhat awkwardly to his ear, then angled it out, hoping that the mic could still pick up his voice.

There was a click.

"_Hello, this is Mountain Search and Rescue. Please state your name and location_."

"Er—Hi, there was—" …an accident? _Chaos_, damn it! "Someone crashed, I need help."

The woman paused. Sonic stifled a sigh.

"_Where are you right now?_" she asked.

Sonic thought for a moment. "About half a mile west from the ski area. In a forest." Yeah, that sounded about right. "Above the terminus… thing," he added.

"_How many people are affected?_"

Affected? "One. Not me?" he suggested.

"_Can you tell me about the injury?_"

Injury? Injury. Heck! "Uhm…" There were flickies more eloquent than he was at this point.

"_What happened?_", she asked.

"…I think his hip is broke." Sonic buried his face in his hand.

"_Is he responsive?_"

"Is he what?" Sonic asked. Sheesh, that woman was calm.

"_Can you talk to him?_"

"Huh? Ah, yeah, he's fine. Just can't get up."

"_Good. Try to keep him warm until someone arrives. Can you give me a name, we might have to call back._"

_A_ name he could give. "It's Ben Johnson."

"_Johnson._" She sounded surprised. "_We'll send someone out right away._"

The moment she hung up, the phone started blaring again, some ID showing up on the screen. Sonic shoved it back into his pocket then crossed the distance of exactly three and a half steps to purposefully bump his forehead against a trunk.

#

"You can leave if you want," Ben said.

Sonic shook his head. He didn't need a watch to know he was late, but apparently the teen had a sense for it as well. Still, he couldn't leave until he was sure someone was actually coming.

They hadn't talked too much otherwise. Sonic had unstrapped the boy's board and placed it flat against the snow so they could be easier seen from above, then he'd given him his scarf for some extra padding to sit on, meanwhile trying to avoid most of his questions (particularly the 'aren't you cold?' one). Now he sat on a somewhat dry root at the side of the path Ben had come down, and kind of still tried to keep his answers vague. Something just felt off about telling everyone where he came from just because he _could_ now.

Ben glanced at his phone again, a look of disdain on his face, then dropped it back into his lap with a huff.

"Still hoping for a signal?" Sonic asked.

"Nah…" he looked at the phone once more. "It's just—There were those two I sort of hung out with all day and all day yesterday. We kinda split up before this happened and they said they'd meet me at the station. I've got like a zillion of messages and calls from my parents and even a friend back home, but not a single one from them. And they definitely got my number."

"So you're worried?"

"No." He snorted. "They're assholes. I bet they didn't even call SAR."

Sonic raised an eye-ridge. "Why hang out with them in the first place?"

"…I don't know," he mumbled, glancing at his feet. "They seemed cool."

After a pause, Ben added: "Would you really've gone to the station to ask for help? I mean, they'd've gone crazy if they'd seen you, I'm sure."

Sonic took a moment to process the question. "Probably not." He shrugged. "But I know someone who can go for me."

His face went from a 'go figure' to a look of surprise, then he shook his head. "Guess everyone has better friends than I," he said.

"Eh, you're probably just not looking right," Sonic said.

"I'm—what?" Ben gave him a baffled look.

"Uh—" Sonic paused. He had a feeling Jen would've corrected him a zillion times by now. But hey, he had to make do without her here.

"Why didn't they come with you?" Sonic asked, trying to steer the topic.

"Ugh." Ben let his hands drop into his lap. "I was stupid, okay?"

"Right." Sonic sniffed. "They told you it's gonna be awesome to go down here alone and that they'd hang out with you some more after that?"

"…Something like that," he said quietly. "How'd _you_ know?"

"I got experience with that kind of stupid," Sonic said, flashing a grin. "But I'm usually not at the end of it." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Don't try to prove something to anyone but yourself."

"Pfft. Sure."

"Hey, you knew it was stupid when it happened—just say no next time."

"You don't get it." He shook his head.

Right. Sonic leaned his back into the trunk, crossing his arms and studying Ben for a bit. In a way, Sonic probably really didn't get it. He'd always been too… uncaring to be the target of people like the ones Ben was talking about. But _Miles_ had been—and probably still was. Even on Mobius someone having two tails was for some reason more strange than a guy outrunning racecars. But Ben looked like a regular old human to him. Maybe the kid really just needed someone to stand up for him until he felt confident enough on his own.

…Like Miles. He really hoped the kid was doing alright without him.

"My dad's pretty rich," Ben said suddenly, looking at his hands. "It's, like, everyone knows him around here. And everyone I hang out with knows I get a whole lot of money to spend. Sometimes, they get me to pay stuff for them, like, drinks, or something to eat. And I do it because they… let me hang out with them or whatever. But afterwards they just—oh, I dunno. I kind of know it's dumb, but it doesn't seem that bad either, you know?"

Sonic hummed. That was a bit different than what he'd expected, but the idea was the same. "You need a friend," he said.

Ben snorted. "Go figure."

Damn. He hadn't meant it like that. Wasn't he supposed to be better at this stuff? "I mean," Sonic said. "Your dad seems to be more important than you, so, why don't you go someplace where it doesn't matter?"

Ben gave him a flat look. "I'm still going to school."

"You do? Eh, I never get it right with you guys." Yep. He was supposed to be _way_ better at this.

"Besides," Ben said. "I don't want to leave here. It just want people to be _normal_ towards me."

Sonic gave a dry chuckle. "Yeah, I get _that_, trust me."

Ben gave him a strange look but said nothing. Sonic shook his head.

"Alright, I mean. You need a friend. A good friend that can help you. You're not good at finding them, but maybe they can find you," Sonic said, watching Ben's face crumple into a frown. "Try to do what you like, not what you think someone else likes. Maybe you're alone for a while, but then others will get interested. I think you'll know when they're interested the right way and not just… because—" Sonic broke off with a groan, rubbing his head. This was becoming frickin' complicated. Half of the time he felt like he was just repeating stuff he'd heard on TV, which meant he kind of only really understood eighty percent of what he even said himself. It was _weird_. "I'm no good at this," he said, sighing.

"Nah." Ben shook his head. "I get it, I guess. I just have to actually _do_ it." He paused for a moment. "Your English is way better than my French by the way—you're really not gonna tell me where you're from, eh?"

Sonic groaned, but then couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, I guess. And nope. Can't do that."

"Figures."

"…So, were you any good?" Sonic asked, nodding at his board. "Before you broke your hip and all, I mean?"

"Well, _actually_—"

A faint roar rose from behind the trees and both perked up, picking up on the noise. A helicopter, it seemed. It came closer, probably circling the area. Sonic got to his feet to pull his board from the snow then sat back down, beginning to strap it on. Ben watched him with a thoughtful look on his face.

"I'm not gonna see you again, am I?" he said.

Sonic shook his head. "Probably not."

Ben nodded. "Take care, then," he said. "And, thanks!"

"Good luck." Sonic gave him a thumbs-up, then angled his board downhill.

#

Jen was pacing up and down the hotel room. They'd been waiting at the meeting spot for a while, then Allan had managed to drag her back inside, claiming that Sonic would know where to go. Now it was late noon and Sonic was close to an hour overdue. To say she was getting worried was a minor understatement.

Allan had made himself comfortable on the bed, legs outstretched. He calmly leafed through a magazine.

"How can you just sit there?" Jen asked.

"I'm trying not to do it," he said without looking up.

"Do what?"

"Say 'I told you so'."

Jen groaned. "You barely talk to him, but now you're the expert?"

Allan met her gaze, dropping the magazine. "It's exactly the same as always. He leaves, he doesn't return when you expect him to, you get worried. And then—poof—he's back, nothing happened, and he doesn't even realize what he's caused. It's going to be the same this time, only with you having an extra rental fee on your hands." He picked the mag back up.

"You're worried about the _rental fee_? He could be freezing to death out there—"

Allan looked up again. "Jen, you're not responsible."

"This is different."

"Why? Because you think you know where he went?"

"Yes, exactly that. This time I can actually do something. I'll go to the counter and see if they can call someone." She turned to pick up her shoes.

"What? No-no-no." Allan jumped in front of her, grasping her by her shoulders. He met her eyes, fretting for a moment. "What are you going to tell them?" he asked.

Jen crossed her arms within his grip, looking away.

"They'll want a description," he continued, removing his hands. "And neither can you tell them your pet ran off, nor can you say he's a guy with blue hair."

Jen sighed. "I know. I just—" She threw her hands in the air. "Oh, I don't know."

Allan took a deep breath. "How about you take a shower and try to clear your head. Then we leave for our appointment."

"No," Jen said. "I don't think a shower is going to help much. I'll be distracted all evening. You should go without me."

He frowned. "While you try to rally a search party here?"

Jen shook her head. "No… I really need some time to think about this. It feels like you're right and wrong at the same time. There has to be some middle ground. Plus, I want to be here in case he comes back."

"…Alright," Allan said hesitantly.

"Tell me how it went, okay?" Jen said.

He sighed. "Alright…"

#

Allan returned some time after dark, stripping his coat and shoes by the hotel room door. Jen sat cross-legged on their bed with an empty cup of cocoa in her lap, watching TV. She looked oddly relaxed.

"Hey. How was it?" She asked, putting the TV on mute. She watched him drop into a padded chair.

Allan rolled his eyes. "Don't ask. The guy was positively crazy. He was so convinced the stuff we brought was made by aliens, he didn't even consider anything else. I bet the museum edited everything he gave them to make it presentable to the public."

Jen frowned. "Wait… wasn't that exactly what we wanted to hear?"

"No." Allan shook his head. "Trust me. I was this close to letting him in on everything—he doesn't have a professorship for nothing despite it all—, but then he began talking about flying islands and magical stones and stuff. Even if he did have something useful for us, I didn't want our names to end up in one of his publications."

She hummed in thought. "So, could you make out whether he has some… alien connections or something?"

"I poked here and there, but I'm fairly sure he hasn't." He shrugged. "I guess we can keep him in mind, but right now I don't see how he could be of much help." If the guy had an idea about Star Posts being able to, _allegedly_, teleport, Allan was sure it would've already made it into the public somehow.

Jen hummed again. "Now what?"

"Heck if I know. He should probably keep looking for those poles." Allan paused, then added: "No, I'm not bringing up NASA again."

Jen seemed to barely avoid rolling her eyes. "What about the man he's talked about? Y'know: Mustache, belly, ringmaster and all?"

"Didn't you say the last time you two tried looking for someone like that, he pointed at an image of Teddy Roosevelt?"

She deflated. "Yep."

They sat in silence for a moment, then Allan realized they were not only alone in the room, but there also was no sign of a snowboard anywhere close by. "You seem at ease, by the way," he said. "Has he been back yet?"

Jen gave the TV a quick glance, then shrugged. "I've spent my time trying to get into your mindset and convinced myself that he'll be back unharmed eventually. I'm not exactly ready to be tested, though."

Allan raised an eyebrow. For some reason it seemed as if she knew something he didn't.

Some noise came from the balcony, then there was a knock on the glass door. Jen jumped to her feet, her previous anxiety seeming to resurface for a moment. She split the curtains, then yanked open the balcony door.

"Hey," Sonic said.

Jen made way, eying him as he stepped in and worked himself out of his boots on the way.

"Sorry, I'm late," he continued. "There was this guy and I had to call mountain watch then I waited till they came, and—uh, did I interrupt something?"

Allan rose. "Where's the board?"

Sonic blinked, then thumbed outside. Allan pushed past him, grabbing it from where it stood against the railing. He tiptoed back inside on socked feet, then headed for the door.

"Wait," Jen said, grabbing Sonic's boots and taking the board from Allan's hands. "This is on me. I'll go."

Allan felt like protesting, but let her get ready anyway. The shop had probably closed already and he wasn't as good at sweet-talking as she was. He crossed his arms as she hurriedly threw on her coat and left. Then he had a momentary episode of cold sweat as he realized he was now alone with Sonic in the room. Just wonderful. He turned, looking him over.

"You called mountain rescue," Allan stated as dryly as he could manage.

Sonic shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing that could've happened.

"Pray tell me how?"

"With his phone?" Sonic said.

"And why didn't he do so himself?"

"Because he was stuck and didn't get a signal."

"Right…" Allan rolled his eyes.

"Think Jen could teach me how to read?" Sonic asked after a pause.

"No."

"What?"

_No._ "...Yeah, sure." Goddammit.

Sonic gave him an odd look, then proceeded to strip out of his socks. He briefly scanned the room and seemed to relax when he located his shoes under a chair, throwing his socks on top of them. Then he leaned against the bed with his behind (he _could_ have asked before doing that), and began rubbing one apparently cold foot with his hands.

"Can I use your shower?" he asked, giving up on the rubbing a moment later.

"Oh, sure," Allan said, finally releasing his crossed arms only to helplessly throw them into the air. He earned a frown. Apparently sarcasm didn't quite go over Sonic's head.

"Lemme at least get warm for a sec, then I'm gone," Sonic said.

Allan deflated. "No. No, whatever. Have a shower. It's okay. Just don't use my towel."

Sonic cast him a dubious glance (somehow tinged with the notion that the feeling about the towel was mutual), then headed for the bathroom anyway. Allan let himself drop on the bed, fishing for the remote and zapping through a few channels. Suddenly, local news about some rich guy carrying a bright green scarf and getting questioned about his son had gotten particularly interesting…


	15. Chapter 15: Hedgehog From Outer Space I

**Chapter 15: Hedgehog From Outer Space (I)**

Jen slid the key into the lock of her apartment door, then hesitated.

It had been three weeks since her vacation with Allan, before which she'd reluctantly decided to let Sonic stay alone at her place for the time—minus that one day of snowboarding, anyway. When she'd gotten back home, her apartment had only classified as a minor mess (which ultimately hadn't been much of a difference to her usual mess…), so leaving him alone again for Christmas at her parents' had been a rather relaxed decision. So, what was it now with the sudden apprehension?

She shook her head and dismissed it, unlocking the door and hauling her stuff inside. A waft of stale air greeted her—not exactly what she'd expected. Sonic probably hadn't been here in a while, something she gradually managed to get used to. Getting used to not instantly _worrying_ when it happened, though, was another matter entirely—especially when they'd broadcasted a weather alert an hour or so ago…

Jen suppressed a sigh and stripped off her coat, closing the door behind her. She strode over to the window by her desk and slid it open, taking a breath of the cool air drifting into the room. The swirling gusts of snow that pattered her windowsill told her she'd made it home in time.

From behind came a groan and some shuffling. Jen turned.

Sonic was lying on the couch, huddled in a blanket, and with one hand untangled just enough to rub his eyes. The table and floor beside him were cluttered with a bunch of books and a considerable amount of tissues, but other than that the place looked pretty much untouched. He tiredly pushed himself into a sitting position, blanket sliding into his lap, then he had a brief moment of wakefulness as his gaze fell on the table.

Jen struggled a bit _not_ to recall the tissue-related remark Allan had made a couple of weeks ago.

"Uh… I was gonna clean that up," he said, regarding the mess with bleary eyes. After a moment he shivered and tucked himself into the blanket again, dropping back into a lying position. He curled up on his side and closed his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Jen absently closed the window behind her, another bout of worry creeping up inside. This time, though, it wasn't the regular 'maybe Sonic fell off a skyscraper' kind of worry, it was the 'maybe Allan had been wrong' kind of worry, which turned out to be slightly worse. Was this even supposed to happen? It was obvious Sonic had caught a cold of some sort, but according to Allan Sonic should've been practically immune to any Earth bacteria or viruses going around—his organism simply too foreign for anything to be even remotely adapted. If Allan had missed something, Sonic wasn't the only one in trouble, that much was sure.

…Then again, Sonic had probably just stayed out in the snow again and finally gotten his comeuppance for it. There were probably a ton of alien germs inside him just waiting for their chance.

Yeah, that sounded a lot more reassuring.

Jen crouched down beside him, putting a hand on his forehead and earning a quiet hum. His skin felt hot to the touch, a bit feverish really, but did that mean what she thought it meant? Maybe this temperature was actually normal?

...His fur was _soft_.

Even the quills had a kind of softness to them—with the outer ones covered in a kind of fluff that tended to make her forget that those huge, thick spines were actually made up of countless smaller ones.

She absently kept running her fingers through the fur between his ears—something she'd have found horribly inappropriate in any other situation—but at the moment he didn't seem to complain. Her hand moved towards one ear, where his hair managed to feel even smoother underneath her fingers, and she gently began scratching.

Jeez, she could do this all day. Why did pets have to be such high maintenance?

Sonic stirred, shrinking away from her touch and slowly propping himself up on his elbows again. He studied her for a moment, apparently too exhausted to look properly miffed, then he decided to stare out of the window instead. Jen wasn't sure if he looked somewhat flushed because of his cold or because of something else. It was one of those moments when she felt like she didn't know him at all.

"Sorry," she said. "Hope I didn't make someone jealous there."

"Wha?" He chuckled as realization hit. "No…"

Jen grinned, then shook her head. "Never mind. I keep forgetting you're only fourteen."

Sonic looked at her. "What's that got to do with it?"

"Well, it's a bit young for a girlfriend, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "Sounds okay to me."

Jen gave him a skeptical look, but decided to leave it at that. She shifted her weight, ready to get up.

"I think I'm fifteen now," Sonic mused.

"You _think_," she said, crouching down again.

"Yeah. It should be summer now back home, so—" He shrugged again.

"Ha." Jen smiled. "You're in luck then." She finally got up, heading for her bags. "I actually have a present for you."

"Huh? For what?"

"Don't you get presents on your birthday?"

"No? We get food."

Man, he was such a glutton. "Wait. Seriously?" Jen asked on second thought.

"Yeaah… tends to get a bit out of hand because you have to at least _try_ everything. It's kinda more like birth-week." He paused. "Unless your friends can't cook…"

'Like you,' Jen wanted to say. But Sonic went quiet again after that, and she remembered why she tended to avoid talks like these. It always seemed to create an air of sentimentality that she wasn't sure he wanted to endure. He appeared to take it easy, admittedly, but still…

Jen returned with a wrapped package and placed it into his lap before sitting down cross-legged on the floor beside the couch. "There," she said. "It's meant for Christmas though. I just got lucky with the birthday."

Sonic turned the present over in his hands then began to tug at the wrapping, awkwardly removing it.

"…A scarf?" He laughed and ended up coughing. »Damn.«

"Looks like it would've been better if you had it a couple of days ago, huh?" she said.

He shook his head. "I think I'll live long enough to need it again. Thanks."

Jen got up again, smiling to herself, then her smile faded as her brain processed his words.

"You, er, you _mean_ that, don't you? That's just a cold you're having, not some freaky serious alien disease, right?"

He craned his head to look up at her, arching one eye-ridge and lifting his index finger. "Which of my answers is gonna help and which one is gonna make you panic?" he asked, stuffed nose included. She was fairly sure there was a grin lingering somewhere.

"Oh, come on." Jen grabbed a nearby pillow and let it drop into his face. Sonic let it bounce off without flinching and began snickering.

"It's just a cold, relax," he said, then coughed again and began collecting the blanket that had spilled out around him.

Jen let out a long breath, shaking her head. It _was_ the answer she'd wanted to hear, but, _dude_. She began clearing a few things from the table, trying to move her thoughts into a different territory along with them. "I'm gonna make you something to eat," she said midway.

"Wait."

"Hm?"

"That book." Sonic pushed himself to a sitting position at the edge of the couch, and Jen put the book she'd just picked up back on the table. He filed through the pages until the one that had previously been open came up again, then he pointed at the picture of a small, spiky animal. "What's it say? H— He—?" He gave up with a groan.

"It's a hedgehog."

"Hedgehog…" Sonic wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. "I'm a hedgehog." It wasn't a question.

Jen gave him a long look. He'd almost convinced her that he hadn't caught anything more serious than a cold, but calling himself a 'hedgehog' was a bit of a stretch.

"A hedgehog," she repeated, maybe a little too dryly.

He hummed. "Yeah, 's also what my name means. Hedgehog. Sonic the hedgehog," he said, still looking at the picture.

Jen felt her face knit into utter skepticism. "Wait. What now? Is your name hedgehog or are you one? And what's with the 'the'? Are you the only one around or what?"

"Uh, no, well, yes. Both. And I'm not the only one. Maybe 'the' was wrong? I dunno… _Ugh, I think my brain's melting_." Sonic rubbed his face. "Are they still alive here?" he asked after a moment.

"Hedgehogs? Sure. Not anywhere near here, but definitely over in Europe."

"Cool."

Jen smiled, still perplexed. "You really are one, eh?" Then a thought struck her. "Can you curl up?"

He gave her a questioning look and she showed him the image.

Sonic snorted—not the most dainty thing to do with a stuffed nose. "Not really like _that_," he said. "But—" He let the blanket slide off then rolled up effortlessly in what should've been a major acrobatic feat. His quills bristled.

"_Oh my god._" Jen laughed. "That's gonna ruin a truck's tire for sure."

»What?« he asked, stretching out again and slumping into the couch like a wet rag. He drew the blanket over his body again.

"Nevermind," she said. "I'mma head for the kitchen."

»Do I really need to eat something?« Sonic's voice sounded muffled from beneath the blanket, but she'd definitely heard that right.

"You really _are_ sick, aren't you?"

A groan.

"Did you eat anything at all?" Jen shuffled through the cabinets, the kitchen seemed barely touched.

"Uhh… a couple of eggs…?"

"With what?"

"... What do you mean?"

The phone rang, and Jen bit off her (mildly bewildered) reply. She hurried to get the receiver.

#

"Well, great. My mom's coming over," Jen said.

Sonic pulled himself out of a doze. "Weren't you just there?"

"I was, but she left some time after me. She wanted to visit a friend, and now the route's blocked. Looks like she's coming over instead of waiting the weather out someplace else…"

"Mhh." Sonic sat up and let himself slide to his feet.

"What're you doing?"

"Heading out."

"Fat chance! You need rest." It was bad enough to have him like this. Any worse and she'd have to call a doctor or something. Allan would be nearing insanity.

Wait.

Jen picked up the phone before Sonic had a chance to protest. "I'm calling Allan."

#

"_Hey, Jen. Back already?_" Allan said.

"Yeah, looks like I just escaped the weather."

"_Mhh, glad you made it in time. It's getting pretty bad._"

"Uh, yeah, about that. My Mom's spontaneously coming over—"

"_Oh, okay. I just got to the lab, but—_"

"The _lab_? What're you doing at the lab? It's between Christmas and New Year."

"Exactly. _I'm all alone here. Best time of the year. But I'll take a break if you want me to meet your mom._"

"Oh, well, _actually_…"

#

"I'm not going into a bag." Sonic said through a stuffed nose. He stared into the rather luxurious piece of luggage, arms firmly crossed beneath the blanket he still had around his shoulders.

Allan rolled his eyes.

"You can't just waltz out of the door and you know it." Jen said.

"It worked just fine last time."

"Maybe. But this time we also have to get you inside again. Allan's front door isn't on the outside like mine."

Sonic pursed his lips, then went to pick up his shoes, swaying a bit as he tried to put one on, blanket sliding to the floor. He steadied himself against the wall with his forehead. "I can get to his place on my own," he muttered.

"You are not—"

"Listen," Allan cut in. "I don't care what crazy stunts you do all day, but even when you're well all you seem to manage is make Jen worry. So put your pride or dignity or whatever it is you think you have aside and do what she says for a change."

Jen gaped.

Sonic slipped into shoe number two then turned around, looking Allan in the eye with unexpected intensity. "Just because I'm—"

The doorbell rang.

"Uh." Jen exchanged a glance with her momentarily frozen companions.

Sonic dropped the blanket into the bag and scrambled to fit inside, prompting Allan to lunge and fumble for the zipper. Jen readied Allan's coat, helping him put it on the moment he got up again. Then Allan wrapped the bag's strap around his shoulders and got ready to lift it up.

"_Fu_ —Hrrrgh." Allan stumbled. He _looked_ fit on occasion, but to call him sporty was a bit of a stretch.

Jen had already tensed every muscle to jump in and catch him. But then he managed to steady himself, eyes wide and panting for a moment. From the bag came an irritated grunt.

Allan hesitantly wagged his head towards the door.

An icy breeze washed inside as Jen pulled the door open then quickly shut it again when her mom had gotten safely inside. A few minutes of introductions followed, then Allan made his first attempt at leaving.

"So—" He rubbed his hands together, face reddening from the obviously straining weight. "I'm sorry you caught me on the go. I really have to get back to the lab now."

"Really?" Jen's mom said, sounding genuinely surprised. "That's some dedication. You should follow his example, Jenny."

Jen rolled her eyes. "Mom…"

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for a while longer? At least until the weather gets better," her mom said.

"No, no thanks, I'll manage. Bad luck, I guess. I made a test set-up earlier that I can't leave alone for too long. I just had to get back here to fetch a bunch of books I left here last week, so—" Allan gave her an apologetic smile.

Jen blinked. That had almost sounded convincing. Allan wasn't supposed to be smooth with things like this.

"Oh, I guess it can't be helped then," her mom said. "Be careful out there, will you."

From the bag came a noise that sounded like a desperate attempt at concealing a cough. The room went quiet for a moment.

Allan broke the silence. "I'm sure I'll get there in one piece. I'm used to weather like that. Nice meeting you." He put on a smile and extended a hand.

Jen's mom stirred out of her momentary freeze, taking his hand. "Yes. Of course. Until next time, I hope."

Allan reached for the door and Jen went between the two to plant a kiss on his cheek and slip her car keys into his pocket. "Good luck!"

#

The moment they were out in the cold Sonic tore the bag's zipper open and gasped for air, immediately breaking into a coughing fit.

"Good job." Allan said.

"What?" Sonic wheezed, bewilderment in his voice.

"Good job holding it in until now."

"...Are you being sarcastic?" Sonic asked. Allan could see the irritated frown without looking.

"_No_?" He tried to make a point by looking Sonic in the eye, but at that moment realized that the bag he was carrying had shifted to a position which could basically be considered as having Sonic wrapped around his butt. He wanted to reach the car before the image managed to truly sink in.

#

Allan set the bag down on his floor between TV and couch table, struggling to keep himself from toppling over with it. Then he took a moment to thoroughly stretch his back.

"Get out. We're here," he said.

A pause.

"Hey, did you hear me?"

Oh, what now? He crouched to open the bag's lid and found Sonic lying motionless inside. Allan's heart dropped into his stomach. He hadn't suffocated Sonic in that thing, had he? There was a sudden flash of cold sweat prickling in his neck.

In retrospect, Sonic _had_ become oddly quiet during the ride after Allan had asked him to close the lid just in case. But after that he'd been so focused on driving (instead of drifting) through the growing snow masses, that he'd simply disregarded whatever else was going on inside the car at the time.

He swallowed, crouching down beside the bag, then he hesitantly leaned with his ear above Sonic's still form, eventually feeling a soft stream of air coming from his lips. He was still breathing.

Allan let himself drop on his behind, staring at the ceiling and releasing a breath of his own. It was the kind of situation he'd afterward possibly describe as 'having felt a tiny bit of unease', but the relief that had just washed over him made him wonder whether he hadn't just discovered a new relaxation technique.

The fact that he could now be sure that Jen wasn't going to strangle him when they next met probably also played a part in it…

He took another glance at the obviously sleeping form inside the bag and shook his head.

A _hedgehog_. He snorted.

He really wanted to believe in the whole alien thing. It was, in a way, the most plausible explanation for everything that was going on at the moment. The idea that this Earth-like planet just around the corner was in fact inhabited by a strange breed of sentient animals ultimately wasn't any less outlandish than imagining a different kind of humans over there. In the end it was highly unlikely for things to have developed identically on a less than basic level, anyway. But Sonic now claiming that he was a hedgehog of all creatures—nevermind a _hedgehog_ who could outrun a racecar, with an explanation that pretty much equaled saying '_because_'? Way to go making things confusing again.

Allan stood with a groan, then gave the bag a nudge with his foot. After a moment, he nudged again, slightly more forceful. "Get up," he said.

Sonic stirred awake and sat up, barely regarding him. Instead, he scanned the place with drowsy eyes then clambered out of the bag, dragging the blanket after him. He headed straight for the couch where he cocooned himself in and immediately dozed off again, not even bothering to remove his shoes. Wonderful.

Allan ran a hand across his face, adjusting his glasses afterward. At least he was going to have his quiet for another while.

…Unfortunately not at the lab as he had planned.


	16. Chapter 16: Hedgehog From Outer Space II

**Chapter 16: Hedgehog From Outer Space (II)**

Sonic drifted out of sleep, eyes honing in on an unfamiliar wooden couch table where someone had placed a glass and a bottle of water. It took a moment for his sluggish mind to catch up as he took in his new surroundings.

He was at Allan's place.

The room was small. Smaller than Jen's apartment, anyway. The house itself looked a little less modern, too—as far as Sonic could tell—, but Allan clearly made up for it with far more efficient furnishing. There was no bed in sight (only a TV on a shelf across) but a door and corridor to its left suggested there was a bit more to the place than what Sonic saw at the moment.

Allan had his back to him, sitting to the right in front of a computer and wearing a large pair of headphones. The table and the surrounding floor were covered in neatly arranged paperwork, creating the most orderly mess Sonic had seen in a while. Barely any light came through the windows' drawn curtains behind the desk, but it was enough to tell that it was still daytime and that they were apparently at ground level.

Sonic scoffed. He could've gotten in here on a broken leg.

But at least he was out of that stupid bag. He wouldn't have been surprised if he'd woken up still inside—zippers closed. Allan wasn't _that_ bad, of course, but sometimes…

Sonic untangled himself from the blanket and sat up, blood rushing to his legs. He felt as if someone had stuffed him with cotton, but apparently that was what you got for falling asleep on a sunny roof and waking up again covered in snow…

He rubbed his eyes and kicked off his shoes, then poured himself a glass of water.

Allan took a peek over his shoulder, then turned in his chair, sliding the headphones off so that they hung around his neck. He looked as if he had to brace himself before stating the obvious: "You're awake."

"…Something like that," Sonic said, pushing himself back into the couch's backrest, balancing the glass of water in his hand.

"You could've said something."

Sonic shrugged. "You looked busy."

Allan regarded the notes on the floor for a moment, then nodded to himself. "I'll look busy for a bit longer then." He gave a push with his foot, causing the chair to spin, then reached for his headphones only to pause and face Sonic again. He seemed to have an inner debate.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm good." Sonic took a sip. "What're you doing?" he added.

Allan looked taken aback for a moment, then he shook his head. "You wouldn't understand."

"So?" Sonic shrugged.

He gave Sonic a long look, then put his headphones down again and leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. "Well… I'm working on my doctoral thesis in biochemistry. I've been trying to figure out the genetic disposition for—," he waved a hand. "—let's call it a disease. Obviously, I want to get to the point where I can start researching basic approaches for treatment, but there are still a lot of things to learn about the way it causes certain reactions inside the body, and most of the tests I've run so far have only revealed stuff that doesn't work—which is worth documenting on its own, of course, but not exactly substantial enough to—"

It was at about this point Sonic began to zone out. He hadn't genuinely expected to grasp anything of what Allan was still rambling about (especially when he didn't even understand half of the words the guy used), but he did have a bit of experience with enduring long sciency talks—or rather 'technobabble' in his case—and he'd often managed to actually be useful simply by being the 'wall' to talk at—even if it generally meant dodging a couple of 'were you even listening?'s afterwards.

#

Allan fell silent. The hedgehog's gaze had gradually grown distant, and Allan had realized sentences ago that explaining his research to a sentient but not particularly academic being was a rather futile endeavor, no matter how generic he tried to keep it. All that talking, however, had given him a couple of ideas. Hadn't the structure of that enzyme looked a bit off in that one result? Damn, he had to jot that down.

When he looked up from his notes, Sonic still seemed absorbed in thought. He had a faint smile on his lips, though.

"What're you smiling about?" Allan asked, already mentally scolding himself for potentially wrapping himself up in conversation—if talks with Sonic could be called that, anyway. Up to this point Allan wasn't sure if the hedgehog could stay on topic for more than two sentences; and, unlike Jen, he didn't feel patient enough to find out otherwise.

Sonic's smile turned into a grin—the kind of grin that might've been entirely genuine but still came off as just a bit cheeky. Maybe it was the teeth. "Just reminded me of someone," Sonic said, still looking amused. "Hope he's doing fine without me."

Allan was about to inquire, then remembered something Jen had monologued about. What was the name again?

"It's _Tails_, …right?" _Ha_. Sometimes he _did_ listen. Now he also recalled her talking about this 'Tails' resembling a fox or somesuch. The idea of Sonic's planet being shared by multiple sentient species had admittedly sparked his interest that day. But most of the time he had enough of the subject before they even started.

He regularly felt like an ass when his first instinct was to disapprove of everything. But seeing Jen pour so much of her time and money into housing this… this _hedgehog_, along with the risk of being discovered at some point? It just didn't sit well with him. She had about as much work on her hands with her final thesis as he had—albeit on a different scope—and he just couldn't stand seeing her being so royally distracted all the time.

Sonic chuckled. "His name's Miles, actually. But 'Tails' sounds perfect. I'll tell him when I get back."

"_When_ you get back? That sounds awfully confident."

"It'll happen, or it won't." Sonic shrugged, not seeming particularly fazed.

Right. It wasn't enough that Jen had to deal with Sonic's presence. Sonic also appeared to be perfectly nonchalant about everything. For all Allan knew, Sonic was stuck on an alien planet. Being virtually indifferent about his situation could hardly be considered appropriate behavior.

Of course, Jen kept trying to assure him that Sonic was supposedly very mature for his age, but there was never a situation that had managed to convince him. Plus, much to Jen's trouble, Sonic also didn't seem to put in any effort to change Allan's impression whenever it came up. It was nothing short of infuriating. If Allan hadn't seen Jen's mother enter the door today, and if Sonic weren't sitting here on his couch with a genuine cold (and no pants on, _again_), he was sure Jen would've eventually come up with a plot to lock them both up in a room together, forcing them to interact. Somewhere in the back of his mind Allan knew it was more than overdue, but he would've liked some time to prepare. Now he had to waste a perfectly good day of research doing shallow conversation.

He braced himself, trying to pick up where they'd left. "So… this friend of yours is good with machines, I heard?" Allan said.

Sonic looked at him. "Hey, so you _do_ listen," he said, sounding strangely excited. "Jen always thinks she can't talk to you. I gotta tell her som—" He faltered, coughing for a couple of seconds, then drank half of the glass's contents. »Damn,« Sonic mumbled, wiping his lips.

Allan cringed. It was one thing to recognize his own flaws, but to hear that Jen complained about him to _Sonic_? Ouch. He had to get to Jen about this before Sonic did.

"Anyway," Sonic said before Allan could find a response. "He's better with computers and machines and stuff than anyone I know. I think Jen called him a—" he paused, apparently searching for the word. "A child prodigy? Kinda forgot what that means, though…"

"It means he has exceptional skills for his age," Allan said automatically.

"Oh, yeah, that sounds about right."

"Really? What does he do, exactly?" Allan asked, mentally frowning at himself. A part of him still wanted to tell Sonic to leave him alone until he'd finished today's portion of writing, another part, however, apparently wanted to quit with his idiot inner debates and finally staunch his curiosity.

"He mostly repairs things for others," Sonic said. "Tries to figure out how they work and such." He paused for a moment, thinking, then smiled. "He's doing all sorts of crazy stuff to my father's old plane, though."

Allan wasn't sure which of the two he found more strange—Sonic mentioning a father, or Sonic mentioning a plane of all things.

Even though Allan technically knew that their planet had to be just as advanced and developed as Earth was, his mind always defaulted to imagining some kind of one-with-nature, Ewok-style society—right up until the point when he tried to picture Sonic strolling through the woods, equipped with a small satchel and picking mushrooms or something. Because at pretty much exactly that point said Sonic got annoyed, grabbed a phone and started ordering takeout.

"…Is it common to own a plane where you come from?" Allan asked.

"Not really… My father was a pilot. He kept the old plane as a hobby, I guess." Sonic drank the rest of his water, then sat up straight and poured himself another glass. "Thanks, by the way," he said, before sitting back again, cross-legged, blanket draped around his torso.

"…No problem," Allan said, struggling and failing to picture a uniformed dad-version of Sonic inside the cockpit of a modern-day passenger plane.

"Do you think your parents know where you are now?"

"Nah." Sonic grinned, gaze growing distant. "Unless… maybe ghosts can fly through space—then they know." He seemed to like the idea.

Allan blinked. This was clearly not the answer he had expected and it took all his effort not to stammer out a bewildered, 'they're _dead_!?', the moment Sonic's words cut through. Sonic didn't seem all too troubled by the fact.

"May I know what happened?" Allan asked carefully.

Sonic gave him a long look, face growing properly serious after all. Allan wasn't sure whether it was because he'd breached an uncomfortable topic, or whether Sonic just had to parse the question before answering. The look slid off before Allan could regret having asked.

"I'm from an island," Sonic said. "When I was a kid my parents wanted to visit friends on—ah, what d'you call it? Across the sea? Like, not an island but larger?"

Allan frowned. What now? Oh, _language_. "…The continent?" he tried. "Mainland?"

Sonic thought for a moment, then nodded to himself. "Yeah…, so, we took a boat across." He paused. "I mean, not just the three of us. A large boat, lots of people."

"A ferry?" Allan suggested, not really sure if he was of any help. How was Sonic supposed to know whether he'd picked the right word, anyway? Unlike Jen, he had no idea how to go about this. "It's a passenger boat. For people. Always going the same routes," he added to be sure.

"Sounds good. Yeah. Well, halfway across there was a—" He broke off again, groaning and muttering something in his own language. He frowned, wiggling his fingers in search for words. Allan couldn't help but frown again as well. Sonic had handled most daily exchanges remarkably well recently, so Allan hadn't thought much about how he talked to him. Apparently, though, there were a lot more gaps than he'd anticipated.

"Describe," Allan said slowly, although he had an idea where this was going.

Sonic set the glass back on the table, forming a fist. "There was a— well, something under water." He planted his fist into the palm of his other hand, then spread both hands out like… an explosion? No, that didn't seem right. Sonic looked at Allan somewhat at a loss, then tried again, this time holding his hands palms down and moving them parallel to each other. »Man, how am I supposed to describe an earthquake?« he said, letting his hands drop into his lap again.

Allan unconsciously imitated Sonic's gestures, then faced his computer for a quick web search. After a few attempts he found an animation depicting the formation of a tsunami.

"This?" Allan asked, pointing and moving aside for Sonic to see. He briefly explained what it was called.

"…Yeah, that's it," Sonic said, slightly mesmerized. "The boat, well, _ferry_, got turned over just like that. I don't remember how I made it out, but most didn't." He shrugged.

He _shrugged_.

Clearly a perfectly adequate response to an accident with numerous casualties.

"Do you take _anything_ that happens to you seriously?" Allan blurted. It hadn't been the best moment. But the question had been at the tip of his tongue ever since Jen had first thought it was necessary to worry about Sonic.

Sonic's face darkened, surprisingly. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure you know what I'm talking about." Allan lifted a finger starting to count his points. "You are completely unimpressed by the fact that you're stranded on an alien planet. You don't care that you're not making any progress getting back. You're using Jen's place as if it's a hotel to you: You use her shower, you eat her food, you sleep on her couch—all the while coming and going as you please. Sure, you stay away when she wants you to, but you never return on plan, so she spends her time needlessly worrying about you and is too distracted to do anything productive—nevermind that she's taking a big risk housing you. And _now_ you're telling me that your parents died and all you do is _shrug_. _What the hell?_"

Sonic bristled (quite literally, disconcertingly). He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, jaw clenching and looking away. "I know that," he said.

"Really? Which one? Because I don't see you act on any of those points."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Sonic glared at him. "Should I whine all day? That doesn't get anything done either and then everyone else feels bad, too."

…Wait, had he just admitted—

"—And I know Jen's busy," Sonic continued. "I keep away when she doesn't need me so she has some space."

"Well, that obviously isn't going too well," Allan said.

Sonic narrowed his eyes.

"And what exactly does Jen _need_ you for, anyway?" Allan asked, crossing his arms.

Sonic crossed his as well, holding Allan's gaze for a moment. Then he gestured vaguely at the notes on the floor. "It's for her th— _thing_." He said.

"Thesis?" Allan asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Sonic said, seemingly deflating. He looked thoroughly exhausted by now. "She said something about learning by imm—" He broke off with a groan. »Well, whatever it is, I'm obviously crappy at it.«

"Immersion…?" Allan said, brows now crumpled in earnest. "You're serious?"

"Eh, about half the time, usually," Sonic assumed.

Allan had a sudden impulse to strangle the kid. Instead, he forced himself to do the sane thing and leaned back in his chair rubbing his face. Jen was incorporating Sonic into her final thesis. Go figure. Couldn't she just have told him that? Midway shifting topics was a bit risky, but if she could mask it enough it didn't even sound like such a bad idea…

...But she probably thought he'd instantly disapprove of it.

Allan suppressed a groan. Did it count as progress that at least Sonic appeared to be mildly aware of his behavior towards Jen? Allan really needed a lot more patience when it came to talking about all of this stuff in general. He sat up straight again, adjusting his glasses.

"Does Jen know about your parents?" he asked. Sonic's lack of vocabulary on the matter had been a bit odd.

"…No," he said, now apparently thinking on the question himself. He drew the blanket around his shoulders again.

Interesting. She always appeared as if she knew practically everything about the guy. "Did it just never come up, or…?"

"She's… I dunno. She sometimes just stops asking. Like, she _wants_ to, but doesn't. I think she thinks I'll get sad talking about home or something. It's weird."

"Do you?" Allan asked automatically. He wasn't earning points in subtlety today.

Sonic gave him an odd look, then grinned weakly. "Nah, I just wanna punch myself every morning for ending up here in the first place."

Allan snorted. Figures.

"I'm sorry," Allan said after a moment. "For your parents, I mean."

Sonic shrugged (_again_…) "'S not your fault."

Allan hesitated. "…I know. It's just something you say as a way of showing sympathy. What would you say instead?"

He seemed to contemplate. "Something like 'stay strong' or 'it'll pass', I guess."

Allan laughed. "I hope the latter is a case of bad translation."

For a brief moment Allan understood where Jen could've gotten the idea to avoid 'personal' topics with Sonic in the first place. But even if Sonic had put up a solid enough front of nonchalance to drive Allan on the verge of insanity, the things behind it seemed hardly fragile. Besides, it was usually better to be upfront about something once than to dance around a topic dozens of times.

…It would also be nice if he could manage to remember that last part slightly more often.

Allan rose to his feet, lightly slapping his thighs, then he untangled himself from his headphones. "I'll get us some food." He paused. "Unless you're not hungry." For whatever obscure reason.

Sonic seemed to think on the idea significantly longer than usual, a hint of a grimace on his face. "I'll give it a try," he said.

#

Sonic slid against the couch's backrest, digging himself chin-deep into the blanket. Behind the curtained windows he could still see snow swirling in the light of the inner yard lamps. It looked like he was going to stay for a while.

All that talk about his parents had put him into a strange mood—not bad enough to avoid talking about it altogether like Jen would've done, but it was still kind of annoying. He wasn't even thinking about his actual parents right now. His memory of them was so fuzzy, he barely felt anything when thinking about them aside from a vague kind of nostalgia when something happened to remind him of South Island or something. No, he was thinking about the guys that took him in—the ones his parents had wanted to visit in the first place. He'd mostly been… kind of a prick towards them, and even then they'd never really held it against him. It wasn't that he'd been ungrateful or something, heck, he _liked_ the guys, really; he'd just been… difficult. First when he was still a kid and had to adjust to the new situation, and then after he found out the nature of his Flow and started to explore the numerous ways you could get into trouble by being really, _really_ fast.

But even before he'd always had a tendency to run off to whatever he thought was interesting. Only, his idea of 'run off' wasn't a case of, 'Oh, _ice cream_', it was, 'Hmm, I could take a hike to Red Gate Bay after school'. Then he'd get there by night, tired to his bones, and fall asleep on a park bench or a terrace or something, only to get carried back home by a frickin' official the next morning. The thing was, it was never on his mind to run _away_. He just wanted to go explore on his own terms, not within, say, the confines of a family vacation. If they'd just waited half a day longer, he'd have returned by himself and everything would've been fine. …Things got a lot easier once 'a hike' meant they'd have to go find him on the other side of the continent.

…For him, anyway.

Despite all that, the two had managed to be more patient with him in a week than he'd been in all in his life, always making a point of welcoming him back instead of scolding him for it. But he didn't need to be a psychic to tell it had been grating on them. Finally clearing things up was a thing he'd always had in the back of his mind, but so far he'd always managed to postpone this sort of talk to another day, even when it was actually a good moment. If coming back home wasn't going to be enough for him to finally address the thing, then nothing was.

Ultimately though, it was still something that could wait. _Miles_ on the other hand…

If Sonic's sense of time wasn't completely out of whack, it was about three months to go until the kid's birthday. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he missed the date—there'd always be a next one—but Miles was at an age when most kids had a rapid change in eye-color, which in turn was usually also the time when they, or their friends and family, decided on a new name other than their birth name. It wasn't the most ceremonial thing—at least not on Westside Island—but it was still an important day in one's life. …And, since the thing usually took place at school, unfortunately also a day with a high chance of ridicule. It clearly wasn't something he'd wanted Miles to take on alone, but unless Sonic got extremely lucky with a Star Post again sometime soon, there was nothing he could really do about it…

Somewhere inside the heap of noodles that was the current state of his brain, Sonic became aware of the clinking of kitchen utensils. Should he have offered some help? …Nah. He had a feeling Allan would rather burn down his kitchen than let him in with him.

…Okay, maybe the guy wasn't _that_ bad.

But Sonic could never really figure out what his problem was. It had to do with him staying at Jen's place, alright. That much was obvious. But Allan couldn't just bug her about it all day without _doing_ anything. Sonic wasn't proud of his situation, but what choice did he have? If Jen couldn't let him stay anymore, he'd understand. But it would mean he had to find another semi-permanent place to stay. Sonic was fine being called a vagabond, but that didn't mean he was the living-off-the-land-like-a-hermit kind of guy. And _this_ planet surely wouldn't make him into one, either…

#

Allan made his way back into the living room, juggling a steaming bowl, a spoon, and a loaf of bread in each hand. He awkwardly placed one set on the table before Sonic, then sat down in his swivel chair, cradling his own bowl in one hand. The hedgehog had looked absent when Allan came back into the room, but the bowl of food had stirred him up again.

"It's goulash," Allan said. "Nothing fancy. I just sometimes make a whole bowl then heat it up bit by bit when I'm too lazy to cook and just want to study. …Which you probably didn't want to know. _Anyway_, I think I made it too spicy. But according to Jen you don't mind. So… good luck."

Sonic picked up his spoon, prodding at the stew before taking a bite and slowly chewing it. Apparently Jen had been right about Sonic having no appetite. Or this simply wasn't the kind of 'cuisine' Sonic was used to. But getting into a questionnaire about food was one of the many things not on Allan's schedule today. They ate in silence for a while.

"What's your problem anyway?" Sonic asked somewhere during the second half of his bowl. He seemed to be eating at a somewhat normal pace now.

"…What?" Allan asked, shifting a steaming piece of meat between his teeth.

"I mean, what's up with you? Why are you so—" Sonic gestured, apparently looking for the right word, but Allan had enough of an idea.

"If you haven't figured _that_ out by now, I don't know what to say."

Sonic rolled his eyes. "I don't think Jen's gonna get in trouble because of me," he said. "D'you think I wanna mess this up? I like staying with her. I'm careful when I leave her place, and I never talk to anyone about you or her."

Allan frowned. That was nice to know, but… all of those points should've gone without saying. A few moments ago he thought he was getting somewhere, but now he felt suspicious for some reason. "…You talk to people? …You mean that kid in the mountains?" he asked hesitantly.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. He, too."

Allan kind of had a bad feeling now. "Who else?"

Sonic thought for a moment, swallowing a bite. "…Like, a few weeks ago I found this boy tied to a tree somewhere in the woods. I dunno what happened—guess some kids left him there or something. I, uh, did him loose, of course, then we walked back to his house. He thought I could be his friend, but then he said I'd probably leave before his parents could see me, because that's what always happens in movies. Heh." Sonic rubbed his nose, apparently gradually gaining energy from his meal.

"…So you left?"

"Huh? No, they invited me for dinner."

Allan almost choked. "Are you shitting me?!"

"…I think that doesn't mean what it means, but 'no' in both cases."

Allan groaned. "Where was that?"

"Somewhere southeast. I'd been running for half an hour or so, so nowhere close."

"If you want to be reassuring, that's not the way to do it."

"Jeez, dude. Cut me some slack. Not everyone can stay put in their room all day."

Allan stuck his spoon into the rest of his food, having a brief stare-down with Sonic and a sudden urge to get up and call Jen to 'take her hedgehog back'. But thinking of her made the feeling dissolve again and Allan suddenly wasn't so sure anymore whether Sonic's jab had really been an insult or actually a compliment. Allan couldn't see _Sonic_ ever get any science work done after all…

He pinched the bridge of his nose while awkwardly lifting his glasses, then sighed. "What does she see in you, anyway?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Sonic scratched his head, apparently thinking about it. "You know. I think she said I make her excited about everything. That was nice."

Allan let out a dry laugh. "Oh great. And I bet I'm the one that makes her decidedly un-excited about everything. Beautiful."

"No, you make her want to be the best Jen she can be," Sonic said without hesitation, then proceeded to eat as if he'd said nothing special. He was either the most cunning or the most innocent individual on this planet right now, and Allan couldn't help but feel touched, even if this one sentence had probably only been a result of quick thinking on Sonic's part. It was infuriating how fast Sonic managed to go from downright irritating to insightful.

"Do you know I want Jen to kick you out as soon as the winter is over?" he asked.

Sonic hummed in affirmation, pouring down the rest of his food. "'S only fair, I guess." He wiped his mouth. "I'll find someone else to stay with. And who knows, maybe we can all hang out at some point." He smiled, then briefly eyed the empty bowl on the table. "This stuff was good by the way."

"…Thanks," Allan mumbled, suppressing a sigh. He was glad for the reasonable response, but for some reason he now also felt a touch insulted for being so easily replaceable. Heck, couldn't this situation be a little less…. ambiguous?

"There's still some left," he offered instead.

Sonic cocked his head, one finger scratching at his ear. "I'm not gonna say no," he said.

Allan nodded. He got up, picked up both bowls and headed for the kitchen, tip-toeing across his notes on the floor. The phone rang, and he somehow managed to scoop up the handset on the way. In the kitchen, he checked the number. It was Jen.

"Hey, Jen. What's up?" he said, closing the door.

_"Just checking whether you're still alive."_

"Ha. Ha."

She giggled. _"No. Seriously. My mom's left. I can come fetch him now. Just a heads up."_

"You don't have to go out. We're good."

Allan could practically hear her eyebrow arching through the line.

"…Yes, I know it's unbelievable. But I manage to get along with your freak. I'll survive for a while longer."

She hummed in amusement.

"What?"

_"I'm trying not to do it."_

"…What."

_"Say, 'I told you so.'"_ He could hear her grin.

"Oh shut up!" Allan failed to suppress a laugh.

_"I'm glad,"_ she said after a pause.

"…Me too. Sort of. It doesn't change my idea about spring, though."

_"I know. It's okay."_

"…Jen?"

_"Hm?"_

"Did you say something about wanting to be 'the best version of yourself' around me?" Allan licked his lips.

Jen laughed. "_I think I did, yeah. How did you end up talking about _that_?_"

"Doesn't matter. But… thanks, and no pressure. Let's talk tomorrow, alright?"

_"…Sure. Until then."_

They hung up and Allan poured Sonic another, slightly smaller portion. When he returned from the kitchen, his gaze fell on his work notes laid out on top and all around his desk. He felt a sudden need to grow a beard only so he could stroke it thoughtfully in situations like this.

"I have two questions for you," he said. Sonic perked up from a semi-doze. "One: Could I take a tiny sample of your blood at some point? And Two: Have you ever seen Star Wars?"


	17. Chapter 17: Can't Cross the Pond (I)

_Thanks for the follows and favorites so far!_

* * *

**Chapter 17: Can't Cross the Pond (I)**

"This one isn't anywhere around here, is it?" Sonic asked from his spot on the couch.

"Hmm?" Jen didn't bother to remove her eyes from her laptop screen.

"New… Neush—what?" Sonic began unsuccessfully. "What kind of word is that?"

Jen turned around in her swivel chair and Sonic rose just enough to hold the magazine he'd been browsing above the couch's backrest.

"…Neuschwanstein," Jen read, struggling a bit to shape the sounds as well. "No, you'd have to cross the ocean for that one," she said.

"Shame," he said. "Think you could hide me inside a plane? I got experience with that."

"We could put you into a pet box."

Sonic raised his index finger then hesitated. "No," he said, pronouncing it carefully.

"But seriously, if you want to see impressive old stuff you could always go to Mexico." Jen regretted it the moment she said it.

"Oh, cool. Show me." Sonic leaped smoothly across the couch, joining her at her desk.

Jen suppressed a sigh. Whenever the weather wasn't downright hostile, Sonic didn't waste a second to get outside. She wasn't sure what he still hoped to find out there—he must've discovered every single Star Post in existence by now—but she knew she had more success asking him to occasionally run the vacuum than to keep him from going out after he set his mind. Now, though, it was on the verge of spring, and she couldn't help but remember the promise she'd made to Allan about kind of 'separating' from Sonic for a while as soon as the weather allowed staying out full-time. And while Allan had gotten a lot less stiff around Sonic, their agreement hadn't changed. Jen knew it was supposed to be temporary (plus, she'd need the time to manage other things like potentially moving house and finding a first real job, anyway), but she still felt as if his trips took away from the time they had 'left' together.

And now Mexico! Why on Earth had she mentioned _Mexico_ of all places? He'd be away for at least two weeks.

Jen pulled up a picture of Tikal, the place that had first crossed her mind, then realized it was located even further south than she thought. Instead of the usual, 'great, how do I get there?', though, Sonic edged closer, brows furrowing. "That's odd," he said.

"What's odd?" Jen asked.

"That looks like something the Echidnas would've built."

"What? This?" They had talked about those 'Echidnas' before, of course, but Star Posts had always been the main topic. "I pictured something more futuristic," Jen said.

"Nah, that's the stuff. Looks a lot like the place I left from, actually," he said, straightening for a moment. Then he leaned in again, apparently reading the text at the side. He could do that somewhat decently by now. "Tikal," he mumbled. "Sounds familiar."

"...Familiar how?" Jen asked.

"I think she was one of them." Sonic thought for a moment. "A guardian or something. Oh, yeah, and she could use the _Chaos Emeralds_ to summon a water monster." He grinned.

Jen shot him a skeptical look.

"Hey—" Sonic shrugged. "Ask the guy who wrote the comic book, not me."

"...I hate you, sometimes."

"Those guys lived on a flying island by the way. Sounds pretty futuristic to me."

Jen gave Sonic a long look. "Why haven't you mentioned this before?" she asked.

"'S just a story." He shrugged.

"You tell me all sorts of wacky stuff. How did you miss out on something like this?"

"Eh, it's kinda boring when there's no mystery left. If there really was a flying island, we'd long have spotted it with planes and satellites and stuff."

"It could've sunk into the sea."

"Yeah, _maybe_, but they must've had a _really_ huge piece of _Chaos_ crystal to keep the island in the air in the first place, and there are ways to detect those even underwater." He thought for a moment. "It's also the way they keep track of South Island's position in the sea, by the way. It kinda floats around because there's tons of tiny _Chaos_ veins everywhere. They just gotta stop mining them at some point, because the island sinks a bit every year and—"

"You're killing me," Jen said.

"What? I'm serious. The thing floats. It's actually more to the west most of the time but when they discovered it first—"

"—You're _killing me_ because we now need another appointment with the professor we met in January, because he mentioned stuff like magic stones and a flying island, and Allan thought he was an idiot."

Sonic blinked. "Oh. Nice. Okay."

"Yeah, that. Care to give a few more details?"

"Sure. As soon as I'm back." Sonic nodded at the screen. "How do I get there?"

Jen rolled her eyes. "Well, not in those shoes, that's for sure." She gestured towards his pair by the wall.

Sonic grimaced.

"At some point you'll have to take up on my offer, you know."

He crossed his arms, eying his shoes.

"...Or we could have them repaired," Jen suggested.

"No."

"No?"

"I can't be that long without shoes."

"You'll be without shoes either way."

She could see his jaw working.

"They'll make it," he said.

"It's cross country."

"They'll make it."

#

Sonic paused in the crown of a tall jungle tree that gave him a good view into a wide, grassy area surrounded by the tropical forest he was in. At the area's center two well preserved stepped pyramids stood opposite each other, drawing long shades in the afternoon sun. They dwarfed two, more spaciously laid out buildings—or rather, the ruined walls of what once were buildings—towards the edges of the clearing. People dotted the various locations of the area, listening to guides, climbing the ruins, or taking pictures in front of the pyramids. It looked like a pretty relaxed tourist spot and all too similar to many Echidna sites Sonic knew from home. As soon as the people left (and as soon as his frickin' shoes were good to go again…), he'd go and explore.

Sonic used his teeth to tear off a strip of sports tape from a roll Jen had given him and wrapped it around the ball-area of his left shoe where the sole had begun to come loose, then he probed its stability by kicking his toes against the trunk, making a face. He'd better not trip anytime soon…

His shoes looked like crap—there really was no other way to put it. With the tape he'd left the last thing he could 'fix' was the inside of his right heel. But after that he was probably better off getting used to running barefoot. Then, if he ever got back to Jen's that way, he'd probably come to her begging on his knees for a new pair, adding another thing to the list of stuff he'd have no chance of ever paying back.

…Not that a pair of shoes would make much of a difference at this point.

His shoes had been expensive, alright. Like most people back home he had his shoes fitted for him—not just because there was a lot more variation in foot shapes than on Earth, but also because, when you didn't wear much else, shoes were kinda the only piece of clothing that could make you stand out in some way. Plus, in terms of durability, Sonic had a _very_ different demand than the average person. This latest pair had a sole made of some variation of race tire rubber that was the first stuff that even after all his running still looked… well, it wasn't see-through at least. He genuinely hadn't expected them to last this long. If he ever got back, he'd definitely get another pair in that style. Shame Tails wasn't also into chemistry, because otherwise the kid probably would've tried to invent the… _eternal sole_ or something by now.

Sonic took a moment to rub his face, then sighed, staring into the jungle-ly distance.

…The eternal sole, huh?

Right now even the cheapest shoes Jen could find were better than what he was wearing. Only, it wasn't the thing he wanted. He didn't even care for everlasting shoes. What he, in whatever dumb-ass mood, had vowed to himself a couple of weeks ago, was that he'd make it back home before this particular pair that almost had his toe poking out, gave up. A self-imposed ultimatum with no frickin' idea on how to go about. Now, it seemed he was out of time. And he really, _really_ didn't want to stay until the _pants_ he barely wore fell apart.

Somewhere in the middle of his train of thoughts Sonic had begun pacing along the branch he was on. There was nothing he could frickin' do, and he knew it. The stupid state of his shoes would have to stop mattering from this point on. As soon as the weather was good enough, he'd accept whatever help he needed, keep his distance from Jen and Allan (just as they'd agreed on), and then use that time to figure out how to live a life on this planet that didn't involve sneaking and hiding and living off leftovers. If he really had to stay, there had to be a way for him to feel more… _free_.

In the meantime, though, the gloom would have to take a backseat and make room for the ruins he was about to check out. He hadn't come all the way south to succumb to the nagging of his brain, and there was no reason not to enjoy the cool stuff that this world had to offer while he was here.

…And these ruins were _weird_. This was probably the most confusing place he'd visited ever since he'd ended up on Earth. Everything around him looked familiar (for real this time), but everything was also _off_.

When he'd first made the brilliant decision to jump into a running Star Post, it was in a place like this. The people had looked different, sure, but the buildings had been kind of the same… and not. He'd spent half his time on the tree (at least when his brain wasn't rambling at him…) trying to figure out what it was that was wrong about them but had failed so far. Were they more weathered? _Differently_ weathered? Older? Not as old? A different type of stone? _Taller_ maybe, because those guys down there didn't want to hit their heads every time they went through a doorway? Were they sitting in the wrong surroundings?…

It was probably a bit of everything. The temples seemed slightly elongated by comparison, and their stone face was gray-ish instead of yellow-ish. The air was warm and humid—not the dry breeze he'd expect—, and the murals were all wrong. But the weirdest thing was that he thought the place should've felt _older_. It wasn't as bad as cities trying to imitate the architecture of some historical place, but still plenty confusing.

And there was no Star Post around. That was unexpected. Or rather, it was unexpected that he couldn't shake the feeling that there _was_ one and he just hadn't spotted it yet. It probably stood inside one of the pyramids, but there didn't seem to be a quick way to get inside. Also, for some reason, the entrances seemed to be at the tips of the pyramids, blocked by large grates, and Sonic so far hadn't seen any tourist groups being led in there. If he went through the hassle of breaking in, he was probably just in for another disappointment.

…Also, it'd be pitch-dark in there. Sonic had brought a handful of things with him for a change (a knife with a can opener for instance—super market dumps were a treasure trove when you could read the BBD), but a torch wasn't among them. He would put off checking out the inside of the pyramids until after he had a chance to read all the maps and signposts down there. As soon as the tourists began to retreat.

Even now, and after countless of failed attempts, he couldn't help but feel hopeful whenever he discovered a new Star Post. But he'd be fooling himself if he didn't acknowledge that the feeling had dampened over time. It always went the same way. He'd see some pretty version of his location, text popped up, and the moment he tried to interact, the vision stopped. At some point Allan had asked him to try and trace the letters he saw, and they'd spent half the day at the playground Post trying to piece things together. Then Sonic had spent the other half of the day feeling sick from triggering the Star Post vision so often. He'd never quite figured out why _that_ happened, but it was the first time it had gotten to him since back then.

Naturally, the letters and symbols hadn't told them anything. Only that one of the gauges really had to be something like the 'battery level' of the Post because it had decreased with every attempt, and, as they'd later discovered, also recharged on its own after some time—whatever good that info was for.

#

Sonic had made himself comfortable on the roof of the eastward temple, now watching the sky gradually transform into a deep orange as the sun neared the tip of another, further away pyramid protruding from the jungle's roof. Humid warmth simmered below him, occasionally carried away by a breeze brushing across the trees.

Most of the tourists had retreated during the evening hours, and Sonic had taken the chance to check the place out from up close. As the sun set, though, they slowly trickled back in beneath him, their low voices adding to the general buzz of the jungle. Apparently it was popular to watch the sun set and rise from up here. Plus, as far as he'd gathered from the signposts he'd checked out before, there seemed to be some important date coming up. Other than that, the signs hadn't told him anything useful—or rather, they hadn't told him anything about a Star Post, even though he still felt as if there had to be one nearby. But the inside of the pyramids was supposedly solid, and there didn't seem to be any un-excavated stuff in the area. So either there really _was_ nothing, or he was missing something really important.

One thing he'd figured out, though: the ruins really _were_ younger than their Mobius counterpart, which either meant all of this was a really odd coincidence, or, that at some point, the humans here must've become inspired by Echidna stuff. Sonic had half expected to find traces of some kind of Echidna cult going on, but none of the murals and figurines and such seemed to depict anything but humans. Not much room for conspiracies. The only thing that caught his eye were the glyphs these people had used. They kind of looked like someone had taken Echidna script and painted a pretty picture out of every letter. But he'd probably only gotten the idea because he'd spent so much time deciphering with Allan recently. If there was a connection, it definitely wasn't anything one saw at first glance.

By now the sun had almost disappeared behind the other pyramid, a hot orange glow rising from the horizon. Sonic realized he'd unconsciously shrunken back into the niches of the temple's tip as more people gathered directly below. They weren't really that many—maybe two dozen—but with every newcomer the odds of someone randomly looking in his general direction increased. Being seen didn't really concern him that much—especially not this far out—, but he wanted to stay for a while longer without being the center of attention.

…Then again he _was_ kinda curious about the people's freak-out level this time round. Maybe he'd seek out one of the guides later on.

Some elderly guy in a white robe reached the top tier of the pyramid, leaning on a wooden staff as tall as himself. He chose to stand behind the now sitting tourists, two or three of them curtly greeting him. A breeze ruffled through the man's already windswept hair as he firmly faced the sunset.

The sky dimmed, and near the tip of the far-off pyramid a single, blue-ish star appeared causing Sonic to sit up straight despite the people below.

_Now_ this place was just teasing him.

Back home, he'd never been to a place with such a clean view at Earth than the one he now had at his home. The gleaming planet, slowly on its way towards the spot above the far temple's tip (but apparently not aligning perfectly tonight), even appeared much larger than he thought was possible from this distance. It was still pretty much a pinprick, alright, but its blue stood out among the white light of the few other stars already visible in the darkening sky.

A group of people below were sharing a pair of binoculars, and some woman in rugged clothes had even set up what looked like a small telescope. Sonic itched going down there. He was sure he'd get them to let him take a look through one of those gadgets, maybe tell them a bunch of stories about the spot they were looking at in exchange. But then what? He'd get a look at a slightly bigger pinprick, and afterwards the whole area (and then some) would be on alert for him. Stirring up a whole group didn't seem like the best of ideas—especially not when he had this lingering feeling that, somewhere, this place still held a secret he hadn't discovered yet. This wasn't the only night with such a view. He'd get another chance.

As time passed, Mobius slowly shifted out of sight and more and more stars appeared across the darkening sky. Eventually the moon rose above the trees (being freakishly bright as always), and one of the guides ignited a torchlight to gradually lead groups of people down the steep steps of the pyramid. When he came back for the last group, he had a quick exchange with the old man. The guide gave a brief laugh looking skeptical, but then patted the old man's shoulder and left him up on the pyramid. As the voices of the people dwindled, jungle-buzz filled the air again and a soft breeze washed across the temple, sneaking under Sonic's fur and tugging at old man's robe below. The pyramid felt like a good place for spending the night—and not just because there were way fewer insects up here… Sonic would surely wake up when people came to watch the sunrise. He shifted into a more comfortable position.

Old man turned, staring straight at Sonic. His intense eyes glinted in the light of the rising moon and Sonic felt a shiver down his neck. He paused mid-movement.

The man sunk to one knee, clutching his staff for balance. Then he spoke in a well-practiced voice and a language that sounded like someone had tried to make the local tongue ten times more complicated.

»Welcome, traveler. We have waited for your return. The stone was protected just as you demanded. You may fetch it as you please.«

Sonic blinked, slowly rising from his half-lying position and into a squat, tilting his head. The man's language had sounded vaguely familiar, actually, but Sonic still hadn't understood a thing. Nevertheless old man had obviously addressed him directly. Huh? The guy looked kind of expectant now.

"I, uh," Sonic began, scratching behind his ear. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you just said." He shrugged a bit helplessly.

Old man rose to his feet again, face twitching in a touch of panic. "Ah… _Inglés_?" He said. "No _Inglés_. _Nieto_ speak English. Come." He beckoned. "Come, please."

The man began to take a few hasty steps towards the stairs then turned and beckoned for Sonic again.

…Well. Sonic had wanted to know whether people reacted differently around him here. He just hadn't expected them to be _reverent_ of all things. He slid off the temple's roof and let himself drop to his feet beside the elder, stretching and checking for other people as he stood. They were the only two up here.

Sonic nodded. "Alright, let's go."

A wave of relief seemed to radiate off of the man as he returned the nod. Then he began to descend the stairs on quiet, practiced steps. »So small…,« he muttered in what now appeared to be the local tongue.

They left the temple and headed southward, old guy constantly sneaking glances. Sonic gave his best to pretend he didn't notice. Eventually he had to ask: "So, where're we going?"

Old man badly covered a startle as he turned to face him.

"—Can't say I expected to get picked up like this," Sonic added.

The man paused for a moment, then shook his head. "Sorry," he said. "Speak no good. But _nieto_. Walk, please."

"S'okay," Sonic said, hands clasped over the top of his head as they entered the jungle on a narrow trail. "You're doing way better than I did when I first arrived here. It's just kinda funny that even though I'm fine with English now, I still manage to run into people I can't talk to, ya know?"

Old man's face was tense with concentration, but he nodded sagely despite probably not understanding a thing. He seemed to be struggling to appear as dignified as possible.

After a while of walking they neared a faint light between the trees. Old man stopped a couple of steps before a small opening in the foliage that lead to a lonely shelter looking to be the source of the light. He tuned to Sonic. "Wait _momentito_, please," he said, then began heading for the shelter—but not without turning at least three times to check whether Sonic was still there.

Sonic gestured for him to go ahead, then followed to the edge of the opening to get a better look. The shelter wasn't much more than a straw roof with two walls and an insect screen covering the open sides. A black-haired young man, also in a white robe, sat inside cross-legged and had his eyes on some kind of video game in his hands. The faint noise of electronic music hung in the air.

Old man pulled the insect screen aside and gave _Nieto_ a smack on the head with his staff. »What are you doing? I told you to be on patrol.«

»Ow.« _Nieto_ rubbed his head. »What are _you_ doing here so early?«

»We have a visitor,« old man said, puffing his chest.

The younger one raised an eyebrow and stowed his handheld into a leather shoulder bag. »…Okay,« he said, then pushed himself to his feet and let the elder step out of the hut before him. _Nieto_ picked up the camping light that had been illuminating the shelter and followed.

Old man stood tall, firmly grasping his staff. "Come, please," he said, eyes fixed on the spot where he'd left Sonic. _Nieto_ shot him an odd look, reflexively straightening, too.

Sonic stepped out of the opening, lazily shielding his eyes against the lamp's light with one hand. The elder barked in a moment of not so dignified emotion: »Ha! He's blue!«

_Nieto_ crumpled. »He's _blue_? That's all you're worried about? He's— He's—« He flailed, lamp flickering.

»Talk to him,« the elder said. »English.«

_Nieto's_ mouth worked.

Old man huffed and took a step forward. He pointed with an open palm at the young man beside him. "This, Ian," he said. »Mi nieto.«

Ian cleared his throat, adjusting his shoulder bag as he tried to get into a slightly more dignified stance. "Hello, _traveler_…," he said with some effort.

"Yeah, hey," Sonic said. "Nice to meet you guys. I'm Sonic." He lifted his hand in a lazy greeting. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

Ian gaped then quickly caught himself. "You—_You_ wanna know what's going on? I—We—" He earned a stern look from old man and grimaced, struggling a moment to regain his composure. "Alright, alright," he said, squaring his shoulders and clearing his throat for good measure. "We are (well, gramps a lot more than I am, but) we're guardians. Many generations ago our family was entrusted with a sacred stone. We are to keep it safe until the day its owners return from the stars to take it home." He paused, side-eyeing his grandfather who still hid a certain readiness for staff-whacking in his posture. "That's what the story says, anyway—and… what's true apparently (what the hell). _Where did you_ find _him, gramps?_"

"…A stone?" Sonic frowned. There were _some_ stones worth guarding. No way those guys were talking about the same sort of stone Sonic was thinking about right now.

"That's what you came here for…?" Ian probed.

"Actually, I'm kinda here by accident." Sonic shrugged.

Ian blinked, then exchanged a couple of words with his grandpa whose by now intensely crumpled eyebrows rose in surprise. They discussed some more, forming shapes into the air that seemed to have something to do with Sonic. Then they looked kind of stumped. Ian cleared his throat again.

"Yeah, so, he realized you don't look like the guy even though you kinda look like the guy, so we can't actually give you the stone," Ian gave a half shrug. Then he turned to face his gramps again. »And we really _do_ have a ›sacred stone‹? Or is that just something you keep telling me? Because I think I would've taken this job more seriously if you'd shown me the thing once or twice, you know?« he said.

»You would've just shown it to your delinquent friends from school.« Old man waved a hand. »You weren't ready.«

»But telling me about _ancient aliens_ was supposed to make me ready…?«

Gramps raised a finger. »It is what we have foretold for generations—«

"So, uh," Sonic interrupted, both their heads turning towards him. "What kind of stone are you guys talking about, exactly?"

The first thing that had entered his mind before was 'Chaos Emerald'—some really large piece of cut Chaos crystal, said to have magic powers. But he'd always considered those things to be a myth. Now that even Jen had mentioned the professor guy talking about a flying island and 'magic stones'—here on Earth no less—he wasn't so convinced anymore.

Ian forwarded the question to his grandfather. The old man puckered his lips, then answered and shook his head.

"He says I'm not allowed to tell you about it."

"...'S he gonna know that you told me about it?" Sonic thumbed at old man.

Ian blinked then gradually developed a gap-toothed grin. "Well, _technically_ not, but I don't know where the thing is, either."

"Heh. Okay, how 'bout—," Sonic tapped his lip. "Ask him if it looks something like this." Sonic picked up a twig and drew the diamond-shape of a Chaos Emerald into the earth. "It's probably about the size of a coconut." He cupped his hands.

Old man drew in a breath, eyes widening but quickly catching himself. Ian looked back and forth.

"…Guess that didn't need much asking," Sonic said.

»How does he know about this?« old man asked. Ian translated.

Sonic shrugged. "That's, like, the number one legend where I'm from. I don't think there's anyone who _hasn't_ tried to find one of those at some point. But no-one ever had any success with it." …Which didn't seem like a surprise if the Echidnas had chosen Earth of all places as their hiding spot. "Guess that means you guys are doing a pretty good job," he added anyway.

Ian began relaying Sonic's answer then broke off midway. Old man looked ready to smack him with his staff again.

"Wait," Ian said, narrowing his eyes. "So you leave the thing here yourself and now you start searching for it?"

"Hey, the people who left it here went extinct a couple hundred years ago. No one knows anymore where they put their stuff."

The elder's face grew a deep frown as Ian translated. Then he turned his back to both and sat down on a large stone by the hut, clutching his staff. »I need to think,« he said.

Ian crossed his arms, lamp dangling from his fingers. "Looks like you managed to put him in the best mood and then in the worst mood in years."

Sonic shrugged. "Yeah. Guess the guys you're waiting for aren't gonna show up anytime soon."

"Guess that also means I'm not going to see that stone anytime soon, either," Ian muttered.

They stood in silence for a while, then Ian asked, "You really came from _Nan_?"

Sonic nodded, absently humming the equivalent of a 'yes'. The whole situation had gotten kind of weird as far as he was concerned. Could those guys really be guarding a Chaos Emerald of all things? Sonic would've made the craziest discovery in centuries—only to then have no chance of telling anyone about it… Maybe that lingering feeling wasn't some hidden Star Post in the area, but really that Emerald…?

"How's it like?" Ian interrupted Sonic's thoughts a second time.

"Mobius? A lot like here, actually. Just with different people."

Ian wagged his head back and forth like someone stuck between processing and understanding—he probably had too many questions pop up at once now. Sonic couldn't blame him.

"…And you just… came here? By 'accident'. How?" he added.

"Heh, funny story, actually. The guys you're waiting for also built some sort of transporter back in the day. It looks like a pole with a ball on top, like so—" Sonic drew the shape of a Star Post into the ground. "One day a portal opened—" He added a dotted circle. "—And I jumped in on a whim. Now I can't get back."

Ian gave Sonic a long, dubious look then turned to check with his grandfather whose eyes had latched onto Sonic's Star Post drawing. They bulged a little.

»Did he come here with this?« old man asked standing up. He tapped his staff at the drawing on the ground.

Ian seemed to hesitate. »Well… yes, but—«

»_Yes_. This changes everything. Come. I will lead you to the entrance.« The old man took off with new-found determination.

Sonic exchanged a glance with Ian.

»Gramps, wait.«

»No,« the old man called back. »It is all part of the tale. They will return on their flying island or through a pole like this. He is the one.«

»He's the _what_ now?« Ian puffed out some air then shook his head. "Guess we're following."

* * *

_Phew. This took a while to upload._

_There is a reason. _

_It is about 50 cm and will be taking up 80% of our free time for the next 18 years. _

_(: _

_Let's hope the remaining 20% will be enough to finish this :D. _


	18. Chapter 18: Can't Cross the Pond (II)

_**McGremlin: **Thanks :). I feel like the lore (and this chapter...) is totally predictable, though ^^;. .And yes, you guessed right. I'm missing on a sleep whole different level right now xD. _

* * *

**Chapter 18: Can't Cross the Pond (II)**

Old man hurried ahead through the jungle on smooth steps, apparently drawing from an energy reserve Sonic hadn't thought he had in him. Ian grumbled as they went after him.

"So, you two are guardians, huh? How's it like?" Sonic asked, lightly pacing beside him.

Ian snorted. "Well, if you enjoy memorizing old tales by heart instead of just writing them down, or wanna learn an ancient language that you never use, and then go 'on patrol' in the middle of the night when you could be out partying with your friends—then it's great fun."

Sonic chuckled. "You still stuck with it, though."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but—It just sucks when you can't tell anyone about anything, even though everyone kinda knows anyway and teases you about it, but then you don't even _really_ know something that they don't and… oh, whatever. You don't even get to be _smug_ about it, you know?"

"Well, you got me happening now." Sonic grinned.

Ian seemed to walk a bit straighter after that. "Yeah. Don't mess it up now, man!"

"Me?"

"For some reason gramps now thinks you're 'the one', or something. And I think he's making a mistake. I mean, I get that he's been waiting for this day for all his life, but even I can tell that you don't fit the description." He slowed a bit, examining Sonic for a moment before picking up the pace again. "Well, not _exactly_ anyway. Considering he's so nitpicky about everything all the time, this seems kinda rash."

"You could still stop him. If you're really guarding what I think you're guarding then even _I'd_ stick to the plan."

Ian's face went through a couple of grimaces. "…I finally wanna see that stone for myself," he admitted a bit sheepishly. Then his voice became firm again: "But if you try to do something stupid, I'm gonna take you out."

"Ha!" Sonic rubbed his nose. "Challenge accepted."

#

They arrived at a wide, overgrown boulder in the middle of the jungle. Old man stopped to peer at the night sky, producing a small watch and checking it. Sonic didn't have the best sense of direction in the jungle, but he was fairly sure they'd rounded the area of the five temples and were now close to the one he'd seen from afar when watching Mobius rise.

»Why did we stop?« Ian asked his grandfather.

Old man ignored him, looking concentrated for a moment longer, then he seemed to have spotted the part of the sky he'd been looking for and nodded to himself. He turned sharply, probably on purpose to make his robe flare out. Then he pointed two fingers at the stone. »Watch,« he said.

He touched the stone face with both fingers and slid them rapidly across in an angular pattern. The moment he was done he stepped back, tense with anticipation.

The static of Chaos energy crept under Sonic's fur, momentarily overwhelming his senses. It almost felt as if he'd touched a ring—only… outside of his body instead of inside. The energy rolled off again as if seeping into the ground beneath his feet. Then the boulder rose into the air, revealing a square opening underneath that it had sealed like a roughly mushroom-shaped plug. It stayed in midair just a bit above Sonic's height.

Ian gaped.

A soft light lit up beneath the stone, illuminating the opening from below. A polished looking metal ladder went straight down from the boulder's cube-shaped plug-underside, leading in. Nice.

Ian stepped closer and poked the stone with a finger. It stuck in the air like a glitch in a video game and didn't even sway under his touch. He rounded it twice, checked the air above and below, then tch'ked in disbelief and ran a hand through his hair. He exchanged a look with his grandfather who simply stood there, smugly stroking his chin.

Ian's eyes latched onto Sonic as he pointed his open palms towards the boulder. "Am I the only one noticing there's a flying rock beside me?" he asked.

"Eh, 's not _that_ special," Sonic said stepping closer to peer into the hole. "There's a whole valley with stones like this where I come from. They don't come down unless you break them up or something." Sonic knocked at the stone's underside, causing Ian to flinch. "This one's reeeally stable, though," Sonic said.

Ian snorted. He came closer and got into a semi-crouch to peer into the hole as well. "They could've made it fly a little higher while they were at it," he mumbled.

Sonic straightened, easily fitting underneath its hood. "Guess they didn't have you guys in mind. …Or it's low on energy."

Ian paled, apparently fighting the impulse to crawl backwards on his behind. Sonic broke into a grin.

Old man had crossed his arms, meanwhile looking just a little bit impatient. »Are you done behaving like a scared cat or do I have to find a new successor?« he asked.

Ian swallowed and corrected his posture, then he crouched forward underneath the rock and sat down at the edge of the opening. He placed his outstretched feet on one of the suspended ladder's struts and pulled himself across. Beneath him, the shaft went down for about three stories then connected with a corridor that emitted a softly wavering, blue-ish light. He hesitantly began to climb. When he finally set his feet onto the ground below and poked his head into the connecting corridor, he whistled softly, then he seemed to compare the ceiling height with his own. He walked out of sight a moment later, briefly obscuring the light coming from the tunnel entrance.

Meanwhile, old man had stepped beside Sonic, watching his grandson set foot into the underground tunnel. He gestured for Sonic to go next.

Sonic hopped onto the ladder, then pressed his hands and feet against the outside of its stringers and simply slid downwards. At about halfway he began inwardly cursing himself for giving unnecessary strain on his shoes. At that rate his barefoot-trip was coming up a lot faster than necessary.

The ladder vibrated as old man descended after them. Sonic stepped out of the way, taking a first look into the tunnel opening that turned out not to be a tunnel opening but only a short passageway. Behind it, a handful of steps led further down into a large, square chamber supported by pillars in two rows left and right. Most of the floor was covered with shallow water, shimmering blue like a swimming pool, but at its center a wide, stone footbridge lead straight across and towards another, closed passageway on the opposite side. Along the pillars, on parts of the walls, and along the edges of the footbridge, mosaic-like ornaments emitted a soft blue light, making the chamber look and feel perfectly tranquil.

…Save for a single, polished looking human skeleton in one of the pool's corners, anyway.

At the center of the chamber the footbridge widened into a circular platform that gave room to the one thing that had been nagging at Sonic ever since he'd arrived at the ruins: a _Star Post_. He pushed past Ian standing halfway on the stairs leading down, then hesitated on the verge to the footbridge. The Star Post wouldn't go off _now_ of all times, would it? Talk about the worst spot to place one of these things. He'd never pass on a chance to get home, but then missing out on potentially finding a _Chaos Emerald_? Damn. Sonic swallowed.

Behind him, old man softly stepped off the ladder and joined them at the stairs. He swiped his fingers downwards across what looked like a blank slab of stone in the wall and the stone plug above them sunk back into the ground. When it closed with a soft _thunk_ the lights in the chamber lit up just a little brighter, making the stone walls and pillars shine like polished ceramics. The air down here was strangely refreshing.

Ian shivered.

»Go ahead,« old man said to him. »I will teach you all about this very soon.«

His grandson nodded then reverently stepped off the stairs and towards the Star Post. Two people could easily fit side by side on the footbridge, but walking one after another was just fine with Sonic right now.

Ian paused at the Star Post (unaffected by it like anyone else, apparently), curiously tapping at it with a fingernail and causing a faint _ting_. The post was strangely taller than the ones Sonic had seen so far—the topmost sphere easily reaching above Ian's head—and its paint-job was still perfectly intact. For some reason it also managed not to stick out like a sore thumb in its otherwise archaic surroundings.

Sonic took in the brightened room for a second time. There was nothing particularly revealing about its construction: The wall's blue ornaments were shaped similar to glowing windows, and the ones circling the pillars could be seen as snakes or the like. But there was nothing clearly 'mobian' or 'human' about them. He had no idea whether that was a good or a bad thing. But what clearly _was_ a bad thing, was that a large portion of the chamber was covered in water, and that the footbridge resembled the only dry path to get to the other side. If Sonic wanted to avoid getting close to the Star Post, he'd either have to wade through that chest-deep stuff, or… maybe zig-zag a couple of jumps between the wall and pillars? Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Like an amazing idea, in fact. In case he wanted them to instantly forget all ideas about showing him the Emerald in the first place.

"Walk." Old man interrupted Sonic's train of thought. "Please."

...Right, the guy was all business.

Sonic hesitantly placed one foot on the footbridge. Was there a way to avoid the Star Post going off? He'd never tried. But then he'd also never had to do the opposite. It seemed as if the Post automatically got into his head the moment he crossed some kind of threshold. Maybe he could balance along the edge of the platform…

He reached the blue ornament that formed a wide circle around the Post. It actually looked a bit like something that would mark its range. Unfortunately there was barely a hand's width between it and the actual edge. Sonic could sense old man hovering behind him.

_…Oh, what gives_. Sonic put one foot inside the ring, then the other, mentally preparing for the blackout that was about to come.

Nothing happened.

He blinked. No vision.

Sonic took a step closer to the Post, then another one, anticipating, but nothing happened even after he'd gotten as close as arm's length. He took a step backwards again to get a better look at the thing. Maybe it was just a mockup? Something to decorate the chamber with? It _was_ taller than the ones he'd seen before, and the bottom cage was decorated with bumpers painted with a large yellow star. But the mechanism and the overall material did look like the real thing…

He went and laid his hand across one of the bumpers and tried to give the cage a spin. It was stuck, of course. As always.

Sonic took a deep breath and slowly let it out again. This had better been just a coincidence and not a permanent change. Being completely shut off by these things would be way worse than simply not having them work the way you wanted.

Old man passed both Ian and Sonic and began working his swiping magic on the door at the other end of the footbridge. If he'd been fazed by stuff not happening, he didn't show it. On his command the two parts of the stone door defied all stone-grinding temple clichés and parted with a noise much like that of a super market sliding door. Old man placed himself on one side of the entrance like a castle guard.

The inside of the small chamber he had opened was wrapped in a soft green light, emitted by a diamond shaped stone in a size that would fit a grown person's hand. It floated above a bed of stone-carved leaves that decorated the tip of an otherwise plain pedestal.

»Whoa, that's—« Sonic realized his mouth stood open and he quickly corrected himself. It had been a while since he'd automatically lapsed into _Mey_.

He started walking, drawn towards the pedestal, and with Ian on his heels. Old man followed them with his gaze as they entered the chamber, then planted himself into the open doorway, staff to the side. The chamber felt full with only the two of them, even though it was at least twice as wide as the footbridge.

The Emerald slowly revolved around its own axis, its deep glow just at the right intensity for its cut to be still visible. A strangely elating energy filled the room and Sonic had to resist the impulse to smooth down his fur. It didn't stand; it only felt as if. His entire body felt light and powerful in here, and he wondered if the others felt it, too. His hand reached out for the stone, and he heard Ian draw in air through his teeth. Sonic drew away his fingers before they could touch the Emerald, a sudden reverence overcoming him.

»Have you touched the stone before?« Ian asked, his voice seemingly way too loud even though it was only slightly more than a whisper.

»No. It is not our place to touch it.« Came old man's voice, sounding full of dignity.

Ian's eyes widened in a good mix of surprise and disbelief. Then old man chuckled softly. »Of course I have. You can't guard a stone like this and never touch it!«

Ian seemed to relax but kept shaking his head as he stepped closer to the pedestal. He hesitantly stretched out a finger to poke at the Emerald. When his finger connected with the stone, he shrank back as if hit by electricity, disturbing the Emerald's hypnotizing spin for a moment and rubbing his fingertips. He approached it again prepared, then lightly ran his fingers across its surface and underneath until it almost looked as if he held the Emerald in the air above the altar instead of its energy itself. When he drew back his hand he inspected his fingers, tapping them against each other. "Well, that was weird," he said. Old man nodded knowingly, even though he probably hadn't fully understood his grandson's words.

Ian stepped aside for Sonic as if to say, 'your turn now'.

Sonic reached out again, only now noticing that, while Ian had to bend forward to properly touch the stone, the Emerald floated at just the right height for him to touch. He tipped his finger at the stone in the same probing manner Ian had. There was a small jolt when his finger connected, but it wasn't the kind of electrical feeling Sonic had expected. It was more like… _soft_ electricity, but that didn't make any sense. It was as if it was electrifying, but in a pleasant way.

…Just as _Chaos_ energy should be.

One after the other, Sonic slid his fingers across the Emerald's surface, taking in the sensation before fully enclosing the stone with his hand. For a moment it felt as if some kind of fog lifted off his mind. Then the room lit up like a frickin' casino. A spiral of light streaked from the altar across the floor and into the walls, washing over their startled shapes and eventually lighting up a series of colorful murals just below the now glowing, dome-shaped stone ceiling.

The upper part of the room had been so dim before, the now-murals had appeared as blank slabs of stone. Now, they were glowing from within, depicting various stylized scenes—from scarcely but colorfully clothed humans looking skyward at a flying island, to people of different shapes and sizes erecting a temple. Sonic wouldn't have been surprised if the images on those slabs began moving any moment.

Two murals opposite each other stood out with less mundane scenes. One showed an oddly vivid view of Mobius and Earth facing each other with the Solar System as their backdrop, and the other showed some kind of giant, human-like machine handing out what appeared to be the Chaos Emerald to some blue… _person_ engulfed in a yellow bubble. It was either supposed to be a glowing hedgehog with short wings, or a human in very funky clothes, which—judging by Mayan fashion—was just about as likely.

The others were just as absorbed by the sight as he was. Even old man looked like he'd never seen those murals before. Sonic didn't dare to remove his hand from the Emerald.

Old man stepped by Sonic's side and fell to one knee.

»It appears this is the end of our guard,« he began in the language of their first meeting, unfazed. »You may take the stone as you please, and relieve us from our duty.«

Ian seemed to need a moment to process his grandfather's words.

"Wait, what? No."

He positioned himself in the doorway, trying to take up as much space as possible. »Gramps. I'm sorry. I know this is an important day for you, but I'm trying to be as attentive as you taught me to be. I believe he's from the right place, but not from the right people. If he was 'the one' he should've known about us, about this. We can't just give him the stone.«

Sonic craned his neck to follow the conversation—for whatever it was worth, since he still didn't understand any of it.

Old man's face took on a pained frown, seemingly stuck between the desire to do the right thing, and the knowledge that this might well be the closest he'd ever get to be the one that fulfilled the duty of his family. He shook his head and leaned on his staff to get to his feet again, facing Ian. »Don't you think this is a sign?« he said, gesturing broadly at the murals. »He came here the way the tales predicted. He could be an emissary, lead here on the same mysterious knowledge that we have to live by.«

Ian shook his head as well. »Maybe, but—« He paused, licking his lips. »No. If he was, he should've said so right at the start. He needs to at least prove that he came here the way he claims.« Ian said firmly.

Old man looked thoughtful, then nodded. He seemed to think about his next words.

"Uhm, guys?" Sonic said, carefully lifting his hand from the emerald and feeling its energy sizzle out of him as he turned towards them. They watched the room dim only slightly. "Care to let me in on what you're discussing here?"

Ian nodded, then had another quick exchange with his grandfather. They seemed to agree on something.

"What are you planning to do with the Stone after we let you take it?" Ian asked.

"I—uh," Sonic frowned. What _was_ he going to do with the thing anyway? Nothing here on Earth, that much was sure. And if he ever got home…? Nothing much either. Tails'd probably want to research it like crazy, but if anyone ever found out what they had, the kid'd never know how to deal with all the attention. Then everyone else would want to research it, too, and Sonic would have to explain how he got the thing and everything would become complicated. No one needed complicated. Nah, it was probably best to leave it here for now and try to figure out where the rest was located now that he knew they were real. If those seven Emeralds couldn't take him home, nothing could.

…Before that, though, he had to at least check whether holding this particular Emerald did something about the Star Post out there. No way the Post was just dead or even decoration in a place like this.

»See,« Ian broke into Sonic's thoughts as he spoke to his grandfather again. »Nothing about returning it to the Sanctum of the Seven, or using it for the greater good (however that's supposed to work, anyway).«

»But also nothing about unleashing their rage or awakening the _Chaos_. I want to see him prove what you suggested before making a decision.«

Ian sighed. »Alright…« He switched to English again. "Okay, listen: We've decided that we want some proof. If you're the one my grandfather thinks you are, you'll be able to use the Star Post in the antechamber."

_What?_ Sonic's eyes widened, thoughts grinding to a halt for real now. Hadn't the guy heard that he wasn't able to do that? What was he trying to achieve?

"You already know that I can't." Sonic said. He shook his head. "Keep the Emerald. I don't even know what to do with it." He made a step towards Ian blocking the entrance, but instead of stepping aside Ian just squared up a little more.

"Sorry, I can't let you go without it, either. We need a way of judging you, now that you know where to find the stone."

"_Tch_. You don't think I'm 'the one' no matter what I do." What was wrong with that guy now?

Ian puffed out some air, exchanging a quick glance with his grandfather.

"It's—Look, there is this part of the tale that requires us to lock anyone 'unworthy' in here to slowly rot and die. (I think this is salt water, by the way). So… maybe if you tick enough boxes we can pretend you were close enough to let you go again instead…"

Sonic let out a humorless laugh. Consider zero boxes ticked, then. Should it come to it, he knew he'd have no trouble knocking out Ian, but then he'd still need to get out of the chamber again, and he wasn't exactly ready to force his way past old man for that.

But _if_ he had to, he was going to take the Emerald with him, that much was sure. Too bad he couldn't talk to gramps directly…

"…Alright. I'll humor you," Sonic said eventually.

Ian nodded and lead the way back to the Star Post until they were all gathered just before the supposed threshold.

Sonic's gaze automatically traveled back to the Emerald still floating inside the small chamber. The moment when he still could've asked to 'borrow the thing real quick' seemed an eternity ago. All he could do now was get this stupid 'test' over with and then, well, get out of the place one way or the other.

Sonic stepped across the threshold before Ian could prompt him again. For a tiny moment he expected the the Star Post to react this time, but again there was nothing. …Not that it would've helped anyway. Even if he did see another vision now, what good was it if he couldn't share it with anyone?

He looked the Post up and down, licking his lips. If this wasn't a fake, he really couldn't see anything that would be wrong with the thing—nothing… chipped off or whatever it could be that prevented it from working. …Maybe it wasn't supposed to be surrounded by water, or the Emerald routed all the energy away from it…? Sonic shook his head. Nah, that didn't make sense. But he couldn't just stand here without at least trying _something_.

He knew how he felt when the Star Post activated—a certain cold creeping up his neck, and just the faintest hint of nausea. Sonic closed his eyes, trying to recall the feeling as closely as possible, picturing those weird, cold tendrils up his spine, trying to envision himself floating above the chamber—

Then something occurred to him, causing him to open his eyes again.

"It's off," he said.

Ian made a face. "Would've said that, too."

Old man nodded as if he'd just been waiting to understand this one sentence. He paced towards yet another blank slab on the wall and swiped in a difficult looking combination. Sonic's vision blanked out in an instant.

»Wait. So it really was off?« Ian's voice faded out in the distance. »Why do _you_ get to be smug about this stuff and I—«

Sonic looked down at the empty chamber, floating right beneath it's roof. It didn't look any different from it's real-world counterpart, save for the now empty corner that was missing its skeleton. At the right end of Sonic's view, a glowing green bar marked that this Star Post had to have the strongest 'battery' level he'd ever seen. At the left end, some text was running through, bottom to top, but he didn't bother to pay attention. He knew that stuff by heart now. Yada, yada. Always the same sequence. Then he was out again.

_—Except, he wasn't._

The font to his left turned green, pulsed briefly, then disappeared along with the gauge to his right, leaving an unobstructed, aerial view of the chamber. Sonic turned his head, and just as naturally as looking around, his view shifted with it. A chill ran down his spine, making his body feel almost as cold as his brain. This was new. This stuff had never happened before. Now how the heck did he get out?

He was back standing in front the Star Post the moment the thought crossed his mind and he mentally cursed himself. It'd be really nice if at some point in his life he'd learn not to mess up moments like these with rash thinking…

Sonic took a deep breath then rubbed his face for good measure. The others looked at him in a mixture of curiosity and expectation. Well, they were up for an 'amazing' show.

Sonic enclosed one of the Post's bumpers with his right hand, poising himself for a bone-rattling non-spin of the bottom cage. But the thing gave way almost instantly, smoothly revolving for a bit when he withdrew his hand with a startle.

No way.

_No way!_

Sonic fumbled for the bumper again, suddenly on wobbly limbs. When he had a firm grasp on it, he spun the cage, hard. All three of them instinctively stepped backwards as the Star Post geared up from there, crackling and hissing with energy. Within moments, a portal opened above their heads, accompanied by a soft _shing_. It gave way into a world that looked like a starry night sky, only in shades of yellow. The portal made a quiet tinkling noise as it stood open.

Sonic felt as if his knees could give way any moment now as he stared into the endless, unreal world spreading out above him.

It worked.

_It frickin' worked._

This was it. This was his ticket home.

Why was he still standing here? Why the _heck_ was he hesitating for even a fraction of a second? Why did it feel as if his body was glued to the ground and his mind just couldn't will it to move? He had to get in there. He had to _go_. _Now_.

The portal shrank and something twisted inside him as a decision set.

Sonic sped up, ran up the length of the post and slipped through the closing portal last second, faintly hearing a yell from the people outside. Now he hung there, weightless in complete silence and with twinkling nothingness around him.

All the things he'd already set out to do once he got back piled up in his mind. Check to see if Tails was okay (and show him that _he_ was, of course), make up with his foster parents for running off like a damn idiot all the time (and afterward live with the fact that there were some other important people he now hadn't properly said goodbye to), finally get some new _shoes_! …And then for a while just… be a part of life again instead of looking at it from a distance.

Around him shapes of more and more places appeared, revolving around him just like the first time he'd been in this space. Like… location suggestions or something: A familiar crag high up in the mountains, a forest of giant trees he'd been to months ago, and a natural, cavernous lookout he'd discovered above a small town recently.

Then he recognized the pattern of a loop-de-loop that stood somewhere near Metropolis—depicted in pale, clean stone like something from the past—and his heart began to beat faster. If he managed to turn up there, he wouldn't be particularly close to home, but at the moment even an island on the opposite side of Mobius would feel pretty close by comparison.

Wait. Stop. No thinking of islands. Not this time.

An image of Jen trying to get him a new pair of shoes popped into his head and Sonic wedged his eyes shut. _No._ Not _this_ one either. Screw you, brain!

Before he could begin focusing on Metropolis again, the portal opened below him, sucking him through. Sonic vaguely recognized the glowing temple floor when his feet heavily hit the ground. He reflexively rolled once to ease the drop, then stood, instantly feeling light-headed. He managed one more step then everything went dark.

#

Sonic lay on some kind of blanket when he awoke. He seemed to be on a kind of veranda draped with insect screens, right in the middle of the still nightly jungle. A constant buzz surrounded him.

_No._ He sat up with a start.

Ian and his gramps sat on weathered logs, eating face to face at a simple wooden table on the other end the veranda. The scent of food and of an extinguished fire hung in the air.

He was still here.

_Crap._ What had he done?

He'd been so close to seeing everyone again, so close to _life_ where he belonged, so, frickin', _close_ to a way home. How could he have messed it up? How could he, half a year ago, leave everyone on a frickin' whim and _now_ he was holding back?

Because of Jen?

She knew he'd leave eventually. She wouldn't like it, of course, and she'd never find out exactly what had happened, but, unlike everyone back home, she was prepared, wasn't she?

…But if he'd had an idea what he'd get himself into that day, maybe he would've hesitated then, too…?

_Yeah, crap, no_. Of course he would've done the same. Sonic buried his face in his hands.

Apparently the only way for him to do things right was doing them on impulse.

Ian's words tore into his thoughts: "You're welcome," he said between a mouthful.

Sonic shot him a bewildered look. "What?"

Old man had his back to Sonic, apparently ignoring the exchange. Ian shifted a thin, folded piece of bread between his fingers. "I carried you here. You're heavy." He used his teeth to pluck a piece of what appeared to be vegetable filling from his thumb and added: "Also, congratulations. The stone is yours."

Oh, right, there was _that_.

Sonic scrambled to his feet, already halfway to where the insect screen parted. "You can keep the damned thing," he said. "Tell me how I get back to the chamber. I need to know if it's gonna work again. I need to—"

"Calm down," Ian said. "We'll get there. But gramps isn't gonna interrupt his dinner because of you now, and he's the only one who knows how to lift the rock."

Sonic felt his jaw clench. He'd waited so frickin' long for this, how was he supposed to do nothing, now? Why, of all people, couldn't he talk to the old man directly?

Said old man turned to face him and patted the spot by his side. "Come. Sit, eat," he said.

"I—" Sonic sighed. Seeing the man's relaxed expression made him lose all steam. Apparently the guy didn't need words to follow a conversation.

…Maybe, an hour or two longer didn't make much of a difference, after all.

#

Back at the chamber, Sonic let Ian and his grandfather, whose name turned out to be Eduardo, pass the Star Post first, then he stepped into the circle himself, holding his breath. In a not-so-cool moment of nothing happening—again—he realized Ed must've deactivated the Star Post earlier.

—Or so he hoped, anyway. Otherwise he was going to tear his quills out as soon as the guys weren't looking.

Ed and Ian were talking about something in Spanish, as they'd told him the language was called, and Sonic was torn between interrupting them to ask, and maybe not needing an answer right away.

When they sat together before, Sonic had taken the time to gather his thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened to him the moment he'd touched the Emerald, and that that something had changed the way the Star Post reacted to him. But then there could just as well be something different about this particular Post, or maybe all the others had just been partially off, too, and all he had to do was find a touch-swipe stone-thingy to activate them…

No matter what it was in the end, if he could really get back home through the Post right before him, he'd _stay_ there this time, and not get within a hundred pace radius of one again.

This time he was prepared, too. He'd explained a bunch of things to Ian, then given him Jen's number (which she'd made Sonic memorize first thing after teaching him how to read numbers…), and asked him to call her in a couple of days. It wouldn't be a proper goodbye, but at least she'd have some sort of closure. At this point Sonic still had a chance to call her in person, of course, but he didn't want to needlessly upset her in case couldn't make it home now after all.

…And, admittedly, he didn't want to needlessly upset _himself_ by talking to her now…

Ed went and opened the door to the Emerald chamber, then turned and shot Sonic a questioning look.

Sonic lightly shook his head. All the thoughts he'd had earlier about things getting complicated if he took the Emerald hadn't changed. Of course, it'd be awesome to be the guy who made the discovery. But a few days of fame could never outweigh all the stuff that came with it: _Everyone_ would want the thing. And while Sonic wouldn't care about being the one who _had_ the Emerald (if he was somehow allowed to keep it as the finder after all), he definitely cared about who _could have_ the Emerald. Which meant he'd have to make sure it was safe, and he already knew he'd be doing a shitty job at it. In the end, someone would get their hands on it, and they'd find a way to use it for their gain. And Sonic didn't want to be the guy responsible for that.

"I really think the Emerald is better off if it stays here," he said, then paused as Ian translated. "I wouldn't know what to do with it, and I could never guard it the same as you guys. So, if you don't wanna quit your guardian job _today_, I hope you can hold out for a while longer." A thought struck him. "If I ever find that flying island though, and those Echidnas really _are_ gone, I think I'm gonna get back to you." Sonic grinned.

Ed's face grew a thoughtful smile during Ian's translation and he turned to lock the Emerald chamber again, slowly shaking his head. Then he activated the Star Post. Sonic felt a prickle down his spine.

When Ed joined Ian again, he clasped one hand around his grandson's shoulder in silent agreement.

Sonic gave them a nod. "Thanks for giving me another chance, guys. I hope this is gonna be it!"

He gently took hold of one of the bumpers, feeling a wave of excitement as it instantly gave way under his touch. It was so easy to spin the thing now, he had trouble imagining how it _couldn't_ have worked before. A moment later the Star Post was fully geared up and the portal ready to go. Sonic took a deep breath as he looked up into the void, then faced Ian and his grandfather one last time. "Good luck guarding the place. And see ya!" He saluted, then leaped into the portal.

_This_ time, he'd frickin' focus.


End file.
